Stranger Than Frisson
by Fulminata Coil
Summary: Lia is your ordinary stunt driver. That is until she gets behind the wheel of her latest car. She had no idea she was signing on to be a part of much more than a movie. M for language.
1. Chpt 1: Meet Ms Clancy

Quick Author's note. No you are not seeing double. Shadow convinced me to stop being a leech and get my own account. So from now on I'll be updating here. And I've also edited the first chapter so the tenses should all be in agreement. I do have a slight problem with that. :P

Chapter 1 In which we meet Lia.

Ophilea Marie Clancy, age 22. So says my headshot that my mother insisted I take. Her hope for me was that I'd be an actress like her. Ha ha, fat chance. Too many times I've overheard "she's too short" or "too many freckles" or my personal favorite "not pretty enough." Jokes on them though, I still work in movies and TV, just not front and center.  
>I work with my dad most of the time. My dad, Daniel, is a special effects engineer. Those awesome explosions in that action movie from last week? My dad's handiwork. Those awesome vehicles in that futuristic thriller from last summer? Fabricated with my dad's design. That cool animatronic dragon in that fantasy movie a few years ago? Dad's idea. Sometimes I watch Mythbusters with my dad and realize he is a scary hybrid of Jamie and Adam. Then I try imagining a walrus mustache on my dad's clean shaven upper lip and his trademark backwards baseball cap replaced with a beret. It would be patently ridiculous.<p>

For some parents, watching their kids purposely crash cars or do crazy high speed stunts would scare them shitless. Not my dad. No, he hits the button for the explosions to go off in front of me as I drive the stunt car. I swear sometimes I can hear him laugh manically. I do other stunts in the background, like falling off buildings and going through windows. My favorite is getting blown up; I get to wear wires and go flying. It's actually a lot of fun. Most of the time people call me for stunt driving. During the filming season, my dad and I work together on a spy show. I get to drive this pretty blue Hyundai Genesis Coupe and dad gets to make the explosions for the show. They happen pretty often as there is always some bomb that gets made to blow up or scare the bad guys. I do believe the munitions expert character on the show is referred to as the "trigger happy ex-girlfriend" and I get to drive her car.

That show has wrapped for the season, however, and that's why I am here today, at an empty back lot in Anaheim instead of in Miami. Today is simply for me to get a feel for the car I'd be driving on location next week. I like to put my cars through a few basic maneuvers so I know how fast it reacts and how fast it can go. Just a few simple things like drifts, turn arounds, sharp turns, backwards driving at high speeds, you know, basic stuff.  
>I pull up to see my dad there with a few others. When they move, I spot the car they want me to drive and my stomach does a little flip flop. A Telsa Roadster. White body, red stripe that goes from the left side of the hood all the way to the left side of the rear fender via the roof and the word TESLA written on its side in bright green letters. Sweet mama! Lord only knows what they want that car for in a post-apocalyptic action movie but I wasn't about to ask any questions. I got out of my tiny little Ford Fiesta and head over. Dad spots the giant grin on my face as walk up. He knows I like fast cars. This baby was a dream. 0-60 in 3.9 seconds? Yes please. There was a reason I drove a little Fiesta, I had a tendency to lead foot it.<p>

After I stopped drooling over the car, I look at the people who were gathered there. My dad I had seen, but then I spot my brother Troi. Troilus Lysander Clancy. Yes, you read that right. Our mother had a penchant for Drama. Well that and there was some stupid family tradition of naming us kids after Shakespearean characters. She could have picked something more mundane, but our mother is anything but. She said it was in hopes that would have such big personalities as the "Bard" like to write. Of course, she picked names from tragedies, lord knows why. My namesake went mad and drowned and Troi? Let's just say main characters never have it easy.

Troi and I are like night and day, which considering we're siblings is very strange. He is tall, dark haired and tan; very action hero. He took after mom in the looks department. Me? I'm short, covered in freckles and had a crazy head of hair that couldn't make up its mind on whether it wanted to be red or blonde. I got stuck with what dad called strawberry blonde and I called insanity. I wouldn't dye it though, that was just too much hassle to maintain.

"Why is Troi here?" I ask my dad as I walk up.

"For the bike," he says, motioning to the Kawasaki they had parked opposite the Tesla. It was a simple enough answer for me. What I did with cars, Troi did with motorcycles. And in his spare time he was a stunt coordinator and a fight choreographer. When asked why he had so many titles, he said he just liked to dabble. The jerk. Truth was, dad used to take him on location a lot and he started learning early on. Which also meant he got his SAG medallions early too so he could actually start working. You can't work without those medals. It was all about networking in this business.

I look over at Troi as he talks with some men in suits. Some had to be from the studio, others had to be from Tesla. No way would they just loan out such an expensive piece of machinery without someone to watch their investment. And it was a good investment. Telsa would get massive exposure from this movie and I'd make it look amazing. And that's not just me bragging.

One of the suits broke off from the pack and walks over to me, pulling a stack of papers from his case. I sigh. More paperwork. The unglamorous side of the job. I sign some NDA (non-disclosure agreement) forms and insurance paperwork, liability forms that sort of thing. When that was done, the suit held out the key.

"Be careful with it, this is the show car." Oh, super. The show car. The one you'd see on all the posters and all the slow motion glamour shots. That explained why Telsa was here a bit more. This was the only car they had and Telsa wanted to know if this would be worth giving them a few cars and chassis they could beat the crap out of for stunts. This car would be kept in pristine condition while they let me destroy countless others. I really was going to be regulated to basic maneuvers. Damn.

"Extra careful I promise." Dad slides an arm around my shoulder and hugs me, planting a kiss on the top of my head. I roll my eyes at him but it is his way of wishing me luck.

"Here Lia, brought you a helmet." For the basic stuff I was going to do, I didn't need a helmet, but after what happened a year ago…

The helmet was the only reason I was still alive. It was a plain white helmet except for the blue sea horse on the back, embellished with a few wave patterns. I smile. Dad knew I loved sea horses.

Troi walks over as I slide it on over my head, helmet and riding jacket in his hands. He smacks his hand on the top of my helmet and I stick my tongue out at him. He just slams my visor shut and smiles in response.

"Ready little brat? These studio suits want to see what we can do as a team." His grin is unmistakable. He wants to show off. Too bad I was being restricted.

"Well, I would, Troi, but they gave me the show car."

"Idiots. The lot of them. Ah well, back to basics it is. Oh, and don't worry, that little voice in your ear is just me. Mic in your helmet." He slides his helmet on and snaps the chin strap. Safety first was our family motto. A well needed one with the stuff we did for a living. "So, drifts, turn arounds and full reverse driving?"

I nod at him as I head to the car. The funny thing about Teslas is that they only have one speed. Fast. Instead of a gear shift or any type of manual control, it has buttons. Only one drive gear. The trick today is going to see how long it takes the signal to reach the computer when I go from drive to reverse and vice-versa. As for drifts? I thank the car gods it has a hand break and rear wheel drive. Without that, it would be very interesting. And sucky. Really sucky. I turn the car over and marvel at how quite it is. Troi pulls up next to me and revs his engine.

"You realize I would smoke you? Right?" I say into my mic. He laughs and shakes his head as I grip the steering wheel. There's a split second where I hesitate putting my foot on the gas, where I hesitate driving at all. The therapist said that was normal, I just had to take it slow. Taking it slow in a fast car? Kind of hard. I look over at Troi and he notices I'm hesitating.

"You do realize you're in a heavy car and I'm on the bike right? Your ass is so grass, brat. Bet you our next pub crawl tab I win." That's the swift kick in the ass I needed and he knows it.

"Oh you are so on." We do a simultaneous count down and when we get to one I slide my foot from brake to gas and the car flies. All that power at my back pushing me forward is a huge thrill and the adrenaline starts pumping through my veins. The 3.9 seconds it takes to get up to 60 has come and gone in a blink of an eye and now I'm just pushing the car flat out. I pull ahead of him because I don't have to worry about shifting gears, I just drive. 70. 80. 90. 100. Troi has pulled ahead of me at this point and I can't push the pedal down any farther. His not-so-little Kawasaki Ninja ZX 10R ABS is lighter; it doesn't have a crap ton of lithium ion batteries in its ass weighing it down. I was sure I had enough speed on him though. Damn, the pub crawl was on me then. Troi wasn't the type to pull his punches when it came to his little sister.

I hit 120 just as Troi hits the designated finish line and I let my foot of the gas. I slow down a little, tapping the break lightly to slow down more.

"Time to find out what this baby can do."

"Be careful, we don't need you buying a busted $100k+ car." That was my brother, hiding his worry with a dig at my driving. I slow it down and crank the hand break spinning the steering wheel. The car whips around as I drop the hand break. I'd have to react fast to keep up with this thing. I put it in reverse and drive backwards until I pull up next to Troi. I give him a little wave before flooring it again. I put this car through its paces; sharpest turns I think I can make followed by drifts and a few more turn arounds and reversing. I turn that car sideways with the drifting, I have a funny feeling about this car. Its ride is too smooth, it doesn't feel heavy, it doesn't feel like there is 6,000 lithium ion batteries when I crank the wheel all the way to the left or right. There is no oversteer, and just a small amount of understeer which I can easily compensate for. I've read it feels a little center heavy, like there was a giant beer belly in the middle of a dainty body. This car did not move like there is a belly full of beer. It moves like a Lotus Elise, which, I guess isn't surprising since Lotus let Telsa use their chassis. But it corners better, far better than I had thought it possible. I would have suspected they had just slapped a Telsa paint job on an Elise but the car was way too damn quiet. I've done my research on this car and it was not behaving at all like everyone was saying it would. I'd driven an Elise before, and this drove like an Elise. Which instantly was telling me something was off.

"Hey, wanna do a Driving Miss Daisy or a Howdy Doody? I'm getting bored and they wanted to see team work." Troi interrupts my train of thought and any sort of epiphany I was about to have evaporates.

"Either of those is too dangerous for a show car and you know it." Either one of those had the potential to cause both of us to crash, though we had the Howdy Doody down to a T. And that would be something to really test the cars abilities out on because timing was literally everything. And knowing my brother, he won't take no for an answer.

"Aw c'mon, we've done the Howdy Doody how many times? Just throw that bad boy in reverse and let's show them what team work is. Or are you chicken?"

"I need to be careful with this car."

"Bok…bok…Bokaw!"

"Ass."

"No, I believe that was a chicken. Is all that college not sinking in little sis?"

"Fine, jerk. Let's do this." I spin the car around and throw it in reverse, keeping it at around 65 miles an hour. He drives his bike straight at me keeping about a foot between my front bumper and his front tire. This is where it gets tricky and I am super glad we have mics. Instead of giving me a signal that he was going to hit his front tire breaks, he simply tells me. After that, it's my turn.

He hits his breaks and pops a wheelie onto his front tire and I wait a few seconds while he still skids forward on momentum before pulling my hand break and cranking to the left. I swing the car around to his right side and he drops his back wheel and pulls forward a bit as I crank the hand break again, spinning around behind him to come back around to his left side. The whole thing goes off without a hitch and the ride is smooth beyond belief. It's absolutely perfect. Although, when we stop, you wouldn't think so by the way the suits are reacting.

"What the hell was that? We said be careful with the car not almost get into an accident!" As soon as I get out of the car, they let me have it. I am so going to kick his ass for this later.

"Hey, you wanted to see our teamwork, well voila! Perfect example. Both of us are highly trained professionals and trust me, that is the only type of person you want behind the wheel of that car." I rip my helmet off, annoyed at both my brother, who got me into this mess, and the nameless man in a suit who's getting in my face.

"Lady, I don't know who you think you are, but that stunt was not part of the agreement. You were simply supposed test drive the car."

"Hey!" Troi cut in between the two of us and pokes the guy in the chest, making him back up a step. I didn't even see him get off his bike. He's a good head taller than the suit and that gives the guy pause. "That stunt was perfectly safe and made to look dangerous. It was a very basic maneuver meant to show timing and teamwork. So judging by your over reaction, I'd say it worked perfectly." God, he is such a liar. But he is also the expert here so there really isn't any room for the suit to argue. "Now if you would not get in my sisters face like that again, ever, I think we can make a damn movie."

The man in the suit straightens his tie and clears his throat as he backs up some more. "Very well, I shall talk with my colleagues and we will contact you tomorrow." With that he steps back to the rest of the group and leaves my brother and I by ourselves. That's when I elbow him in the side and give him a good hard glare.

"What? You had fun, admit it. Now suck it up, you've got beer to buy me." I really do hate my brother sometimes but he is handy. I just sigh and shake my head as I head back to my little Fiesta, my wallet crying at the injustice of it all.


	2. Chpt 2: Lia vs CHP

Chapter 2 in which Lia pisses off a CHP officer and thinks something funky is going on.

It has been a week since the "test drive" show my brother and I had put on for the suits. They want me to drive down to the studio to fill out some more paper work and finalize my contract. We had spent a week hammering out the particulars. I may not be a big start but there are some things I insist upon. Mainly my paycheck but you would be surprised at how some studios only stop there. They pamper the big names and the rest of us have to fend for ourselves. I'm not big on trailers since my call times don't usually have me up at 3 in the morning for make up, but a hotel room I don't have to pay for is nice. And that works out since I'm not there for the duration of filming. But that's neither here nor there. The point is I got what I needed and they were actually quite generous with accommodation choices.

I live in Santa Barbara, so it's not too much of a hassle for me to come down to L.A. Technically it's a two hour drive but when you drive like I do, it turns into an hour fifteen max. That is, of course, if you don't get pulled over. Not saying that it happens frequently as I happen to be able to guess when the CHP are running down this stretch of road. However, this does happen frequently enough that they _know_ me at the CHP office. Generally that's not a good thing, but it's not just my tickets they know me for. I donate to them and have, on occasion, assisted in running training courses for the new recruits. I'm also not your average driver. I've gone through the same training courses they have plus quite a few others. However, the law is the law and it applies to everyone. I try to keep it under 80 most of the time and that usually helps keep me from shelling out cash for a ticket and getting points on my license. I've been good for the most part and I've yet to actually get my license suspended but that's because Officer Andrade usually pulls me over. I get to call him Bob even though his name's Robert, because that's how frequently we see each other. No, not every time is because I'm speeding, sometimes I see him on patrol and figure he's hungry and we play catch up at a diner in Oxnard. He's like my other dad, the serious one who's always worried about how you're doing. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad, he's just like a big kid sometimes, or a mad scientist. Not sure which. Bob though, he's got his head on his shoulders and raising two kids of his own, and man do my movie premier tickets come in handy for birthday presents.

Most of the time I get pulled over by Bob, and he only gives me a warning if my needle's at 80, he _will_ give me a ticket if it's over that. And it does tend to go over that especially if Beastie Boys or Offspring come on my radio. I get a little carried away. Admit it, you do too with the fast pace those artists go at in their music, it makes you want to go fast. This time the offending song happened to be Bad Habit by the Offspring. It was a good thing I was on my way back from the meeting or I would have been screwed.

I see the car in my rear view seconds before the lights flash. Busted. I look down at my speedometer and sigh. I got slightly carried away. 96 mph the digital readout says. Well at least it wasn't over 100, that would have been a felony and my livelihood would have been revoked. I slow down and pull off onto the shoulder, turning my car off and grabbing for my purse. I look in my mirror to see who has the pleasure of writing me my ticket/monthly donation today.

"Shit..." It wasn't Officer Bob like usual. No, it had to be Harper, the not-cute-but-still-attractive-and-totally-oblivious new guy. He is such a stickler for the rules and regulations I'd swear he could recite the entire hand book from the beginning to end. Normally I would make small talk with Bob if I haven't seen him in awhile, ask how his wife and kids are doing. Then he'd give me my warning, or my ticket and I'd give him my tickets. I keep a ton in my glove box because I was always too busy to go to all of them. It wasn't a bribe, obviously. I know better than that. I just want someone to enjoy the premiers since I couldn't. Any I have left over, I'd donate to the department itself or to the CHP 11-99 foundation. They are always big hits at fundraisers in their auctions. Who wouldn't want to go to a big Hollywood movie premier?

Officer Daniel Harper would not see it that way. (Oh, believe me, I am reminded constantly by Troi that he and dad have the same first name. I swear if they ever met I wouldn't hear the end of it. And if he ever met my dad? Oh, he would be relentless.) The first time I offered him his pick, thinking this had been explained to him by Bob or some other officer, he got very angry with me and accused me of bribery. When he gets angry his accent really comes out and you can tell Danny is from the East Coast. Massachusetts. And when he's really got going you can tell pretty much he hails from Boston. So needless to say, he pisses me off and makes me flustered all at once. Him and his curly mop of ruddy brown hair and his stupid military straight walk/march. And his brown eyes, eyes just as brown as those chocolate donuts he eats in his spare time. Of course not a single hint of said donut eating ever shows up around his waistline, oh no! He has to have some freaky metabolism or-

Tap. Tap.

I jump slightly at the sound of him tapping on my passenger side window. Damnit, I got carried away again. I roll down the window and I can feel my cheeks burning as I hand him my license and registration.

"Afternoon Ms. Clancy." Not even an 'aftertoon Ophelia' which he knows I hate, because it's my full name. Nope I get Ms. Clancy because he's Mr. Formalities.

To hell with that.

"Hello Danny." I smile at him genially. I see his mouth twitch trying to hide a frown. Tit for tat. He wants to be super formal, I will go as informal as possible. Yes, I know, pissing off an officer of the law isn't in my best interest. In fact it's like playing with a loaded hand gun, but I've never not paid a donation...I mean ticket...yeah.

"Here to collect my monthly donation?" I continue to smile at him, trying to get him to break.

"Do you know how fast you were going, Ms. Clancy?" Oh, so it's going to be like that is it? Fine. I'll make this quick, hopefully not too painful.

"96."

"Correct. I'll be right back with your ticket." He turns and heads back to his cruiser and I call out after him.

"I would think you'd have one filled out already just for me, complete with hearts and curly cues around my name!" He doesn't even stop in his walk/march back to his car. I bang my head against my steering wheel several times.

"Stupid, stupid stupid Lia. You can't play nice for two seconds? If this were anyone else you'd be fine. Ugh." Yes, I talk to myself. It's healthy. Anyone who says otherwise is the weird one.

I twist in my seat and rest my arms on the driver's side window sill, dropping my chin on top of my forearms. I watch the cars go by, not really paying them any attention as I think back to how that Tesla had handled. It was perfect. Smooth, easy, fast. In trying to pick up my train of thought from the test drive, I start to go over the run in my head, remembering the feel of the turns and the reaction times of the car. Strange as it sounds, some part of me thinks that car was almost anticipating my next move. But that's not possible. The onboard computer is fast, but it isn't that fast. I frown, trying to grasp at some half formed idea. Did they give me a concept car? It was super light on its feet, so to speak. It felt like a giant Samoan moving with the grace and agility of a gold medal gymnast. But if it was a concept car, they would have had me sign a bunch more paperwork.

My mind. It boggles.

"Here's your ticket Ms. Clancy." I turn and take it automatically, shoving it in my glove box with all the others before reaching for my wallet to put away my license. My glove box, being full of speeding tickets, movie tickets, registration papers etc. makes it slightly difficult to close. I glare at it for a few moments before trying to slam it shut. In the process one ticket goes flying out. The one he just wrote me. Sighing, I snatch it out of the air as it flutters to the floor. I was about to shove it in my purse when I notice what speed he put me at. 88mph. He either thinks he's hilarious or being generous. Since I don't think he has a sense of humor or any knowledge of what speed a flux capacitor needs to get up to in order to work, I go with he's being generous. I just put it in my purse and reach for my keys on the passenger seat.

"You okay?" Okay, normal question for normal people, but coming from him, it's suspect. Of course, being the space cadet I am, I drop the ball on my witty banter. I'm still half thinking about that Telsa.

"Yeah, kinda. Just a car I drove the other day seems off."

"What kind of car?"

"Tesla."

"Dear lord they let you behind the wheel of one of those?" Am I really having an actual conversation with Officer Harper? If I thought my mind was boggled before, it is full on confused now. I turn to look at him suspiciously to find he's leaning against my car.

Casually.

What. The. Hell?

"I'm trained to drive any number of motor vehicles. It's kinda my job. Could probably teach you a thing or two about driving," I grin at him. Instantly he straightens up, adjusting his belt and brushing off invisible dust from his shirt.

"That won't be necessary Ms. Clancy. While you may have the training, I can only take classes from certified instructors. You understand."

I nod. "Yep. I know, I had to teach one last summer for the new recruits." I say, glossing over the fact that it was only in an assistant capacity. "Too bad you did your training back east. It would have been fun watching you try and catch me for your final." And I'm back in the game baby! I grin at him as it dawns on him I've trained some of the people he works with. Turning the key in the ignition I roll up the passenger side window as I cackle, perhaps a bit too evilly at his slightly horrified expression. He tries to recover and wave me off but it's a poor attempt and even he knows it. So as I pull away and merge back on, he just shakes his head and walks back to his cruiser.

The day before principle photography is set to begin, I drive out to the town we'll be filming in. Well, not really. It's where our base of operations will be and where most of the cast and crew are staying but we're only filming parts of it in town. The rest is being filmed in the outskirts on some farmland. Sure the town was small, (only one mall, how do these people live?) but with a name like Tranquility I am expecting something different. I expected a water tower with rustic houses and giant worms that shake the ground as they tunnel up to EAT YOU! No...wait...that's a different city in Nevada with an equally zen sounding name.

Tranquility is nice looking, not what I expect. It looks like a suburb, just without the big city looming in the distance. It is a nice mix of urban mixed with country lane. The houses have nice big yards, plenty of room to stretch your legs and grown. But, like I said, we are only filming parts here. Most of it is outside city limits on some private property. I am meeting my dad out there to help with the special effects set up. He is the supervisor so he had lots of little minions to do his bidding. That's how he describes it anyway. In actuality, he tells them where to set charges and how to pre-break pieces of the set so when they need to be destroyed or blown up or imploded, it happens safely and in an orderly fashion. Controlled chaos. My dad loves it.

This being your typical post apocalyptic thriller, things are bound to go boom, most of that would be put in during post production though which ticked dad off. It took what he called "MacGuyvering" out of his job. CGI was making his job less fun. His favorite part in the Dark Knight was when the Joker blew up the hospital, because it was a real hospital in Chicago that was scheduled for demolition. And of course his favorite movie ever was Jurassic Park for obvious reasons, but I always fail to argue with him about that movie and it's innovation on CGI. He still loves that giant animatronic T-Rex.

"The art of special effects," he'd say. "is a dying one. Kids with computers are making my job obsolete!" I usually roll my eyes at him. Most of the movies he enjoys are super expensive for just that reason. So saving money to allocate elsewhere (like stunts and sets and catering) is okay in my book. It also makes things a bit safer if the explosions are done post production rather than in principle photography. I've heard far too many horror stories of stunt people getting hurt when the special effects go wrong. Thankfully that has never been on one of my dad's movies as he double and triple checks his minions work.

So, I'm driving out into the middle of freaking nowhere after driving through the small town of Tranquility. It's hot and dusty and the heat is making waves come off the ground. Then I see it as I come over a small hill. It rises out of the cornfields I'm surrounded on all sides by like, well like a small town rising out of the ground would look. What? Did you think I'd get all flowery and say it looked like a hand reaching for the sky? Nope, it was a little too creepy for that. The set builders had been busy thought, as it looks like a little ghost town all the way out here. It looks eerily similar to parts of Tranquility I had driven through to get out here. Of course there were changes to it, like half of the buildings looked like they had been through hell. They weren't the pristine images of a happy house, but rather bombed out shells of their former selves. They literally were shells meant for backdrop so that you wouldn't look to closely at it as I or whoever was in the car would drive by. All this stuff was location shots, they'd do in studio shots for more background later. This was all probably for me to drive through. Can't exactly drive through a small set in doors.

I park next to my dad's giant ass Ford pick-up and get out. I can already hear him barking orders and orchestrating people like the talented maestro he is. I stroll over to find him in front of a warehouse he seems to have taken over for his equipment, waving his arms this way and that as he works on some set piece that looks like it will be used later to explode.

"Hey Dad. The minions haven't tried to mutiny yet have they?" He puts down his soldering iron and smiles at me.

"Ah, finally, competent help! I need you to finish soldering this for me while I go check on what they're doing out there. If those charges are off by even a fraction, it could be bad." Troi may have been the one to start going on set with dad at a young age, but I was the one who took to the technical side of things more than my brother. Machines and electronics I get. It's people who confuse me.

"Dad, you wouldn't hire them if you didn't think they could do a good job." I say to him as I grab the soldering iron. I look over what he had been doing and pick up where he left off. These were the electronic signals for the charges that he would be setting up on a switch board. Each one was labeled by area and number. He had drawn a map of the set and sectioned it off into quadrants to help with labeling.

"Yes well, that's why they're the minions and I'm the evil genius now isn't it? I get to check on their work. Hey, when you're done with that, can you go grab the mock up of the solar panel prop? It's in the warehouse behind you. You'll know it when you see it." I nod and go back to soldering as he walks off to inspect his troops. I haven't been in the warehouse yet, but they must be working in there because I can hear them making something. It's faint, like someone is trying to be quiet, which I find very curious. I finish soldering the last of the signals into place and turn the soldering iron off before heading toward the door to the warehouse. I open the door and its dark inside. There's a weird synthesized sound that comes from the far end of the warehouse and immediately I think one of the foley artists is messing around. Those guys are slightly weird. They make the weirdest sounds out of the most ordinary stuff. But just inside the door I see a Tesla. And another Telsa right beside it. They seem to be in a row down the length of the warehouse. A strange place to do foley art* but hey, the acoustics in here didn't seem too bad.

"Hello?" I call out, looking for a light switch and finding none. I also receive no answer. Taking a step inside, it feels like I'm walking into an oven. They probably have the lights off to keep everything in here as cool as possible but being inside of a metal warehouse kind of makes that hard. I see a little orange light I know very well off to my left on a workbench and make a bee line for it. I hope and pray there is a light attached to this power strip as I flip the switch. Bingo. A bright halogen light comes on next to me, clipped to the bench and extended over it with a flexible arm.

"Hello? Anyone in here?" I call out again, looking around the warehouse now that I have light to see by. But there's nothing. Color me creeped out, I could have sworn I heard someone working in here. I decide to simply find my dad's solar panel and get the hell out of there. I grab the light and turn it around to use it like a search light. Yeah, dad was right, I'd know it when I see it. Solar panels are hard to miss. They're big, bulky and catch light very easily. I make my way over to the solar panel, seeing that he'd connected it to some weird contraption that ended in a four pronged plug that was almost as big around as my arm. Hmmm. I look at the Teslas in front of me and walk over to one, looking down at the charging port. Yep, that plug would be going in there. I walk back over to the workbench, grab the solar panel and head for the door. Dad is waiting for me as I walk out.

"A solar panel for the car? Really?" I ask as I set it down next to his soldering iron. My dad just shrugs at me, understanding my reaction.

"I know, I know, it'll never actually work, but apparently that's how the character charges the car. It's not like they can plug it into a wall socket somewhere." He goes about fussing over the minute details of his solar panel mock up, double and triple checking that it looks distressed and perfect for the camera.

"Eh, it's the movies. Things that shouldn't work do all the time. But seriously? It would take a few more solar panels to charge that car. And how did whoever is driving this car even think to do that? And they better have spare batteries because that'll put that lithium ion battery through hell with its uneven charging and where does he even find spare parts for this kind of car in-"

"Lia...this is why you're no fun with sci-fi movies...you don't suspend your belief enough to let the movie work its magic. Stop stressing! It's not your job to worry about those kinds of details. Just enjoy driving that car and watching me blow things to smithereens." I take a deep breath, realizing he's right. This is why they don't let me watch Star Wars. I get all bent out of shape about lightsabers and how light beams don't just stop conveniently at sword length and there is no sound in space so shooting lasers shouldn't sound like pew pew. I've taken way too many physics classes for my own good.

"Now, call sheet for tomorrow puts us here while they're filming in town. Guess what I get to do to you?" Oh, I know that look. It was his mad scientist look. It meant he got to blow things up. And I got to be the target.

"Dear god...we're doing a test run aren't we?" His widening grin was all the answer I need. Oh joy, he gets to try and blow me up tomorrow.

Author's note(s): Hey all, you can call me Coil. It may seem like slow goings but I'm not doing it on purpose I promise! Next chapter starts the snowball! Oh and the CHP 11-99 stands for officer in distress and is an actual charity for the CHP officers and their families. And no, donating to them does not give you special ticket avoiding powers, but it does make you feel good to know your money is going to scholarships and emergency and death-related benefits to officers and their families.

*foley art. The art of making sound effects. If something is dropped, shot at or falls, basically anything that makes a sound in a movie, that sound is added in later by a foley artist. Or if there is no sound like it in existence, they make it out of blending sounds. Like the roar from a T-Rex was made out of a tiger roar mixed with a baby elephant and an alligator.


	3. Chpt 3: Sideways

Chapter 3: in which things go sideways for Lia. Literally.

My call time isn't that early, only 8 in the morning. Trust me, that is not an early call time in the world of movies and television. So I have time to get an actual cup of coffee from one of the two Starbucks in town. Seriously, there are two. In a town with only one mall. I don't understand it either. So I get my coffee and some oatmeal to munch on before heading out to meet my dad for the test run. Down one of the streets I pass, I see the rest of the film crew filming something or other. I didn't get a script so I don't know what's going on.

I finally park and head toward the warehouse and I can already hear my brother's voice.

"No way, seriously? You're Officer Harper?" I stop dead in my tracks. Oh no. NO. No, no, no, this is so not happening right now. What the hell is he doing here? He's CHP! We are in Nevada! Ne. Va. Da! Completely different state. Ugh. All that coffee and oatmeal suddenly seem like a very bad idea.

"Troi!" I yell and I see him stick his head out from dad's makeshift tent that surrounds his outside workbench, just outside the door to the warehouse. He calls it his evil lair, I call it boo, base of operations.

"Get. Over. Here." I say through gritted teeth. He grins at me devilishly and I just sneer right back. He disappears back inside for a moment before sauntering over toward me. His hands shoved in his pockets exaggerate his cocky swagger and I want to punch him in the face. My big brother has been an expert at getting under my skin for years.

"Not a word, Troilus." Well that was bad on my part. I only use his proper name when I'm well and truly riled. This just makes him grin even wider.

"My dear Ophelia...you are so screwed." He slings an arm around my shoulder and starts dragging me forward toward the warehouse. Him being a head and a half taller than I am, it's like he has me in a head lock.

"Oh Danny Boy!" Mortified. That seems to be the appropriate word for how I feel right now. Mortified. I try to stop walking, I dig my heels into the ground. I try and walk the other way but Troi tightens his arm and turns it into a true head lock. Officer Harper steps out of the tent and looks just as pleased as I do, which is to say not at all. Of course, when does that man ever look pleased? Harper I think is an Irish name but I'm fairly sure Daniel Harper has had that song sung at him far too many times for it to be a new thing. I elbow Troi in the gut to get him to let go. He doesn't. Obviously. So I do it again then aim a kick at his instep for good measure. He releases me and stumbles back. I turn and he's clutching his stomach, bringing him face to face with me.

"Now I really regret giving you those pointers," he groans. I grab his nose between my fingers and twist.

"Ow! Ow! Okay! Uncle! Not my nose!"

"It's hardly your best asset." I reply.

"It makes my whole face!" I roll my eyes at him and place my hand on his cheek, giving him a light slap on the face. It's a love tap really.

"And that's not saying much." I grin at him, letting him know I'd slap him harder if we were alone. Of course if we had been alone it might have turned into a sparring match that would end the same way those always do, with me tossed on my ass. Then I turn around to find a very confused Officer Harper. He looked mildly concerned over my assaulting my brother. Of course, Troi and I look practically nothing alike, so he might not understand our lovely sibling bond.

"Ms. Clancy..." There he goes again with being formal. I just want to shake him and see if that stick will fall out.

"Hey, it's a little sister's privilege to beat on her older brother. Especially when he's the fighting expert. You're off duty, you don't get to call me Ms. Clancy. Speaking of...why the hell are you here?" Yes, I'm copping a slight attitude, complete with hands on hips. Like I said before, this man infuriates and flusters me all at the same time. Mostly infuriates. Pretty much only infuriates. If I was flustered I wouldn't have a good grasp of the English vernacular...right?

"Geeze, Lia, you sure are cranky this morning. What'd they do? Spit in your coffee?" Troi drops his hand on my head and musses my hair, maybe a little too hard but I've gotten use to it. I shove him away and give him a short glare. I swear, it's his goal in life to make me miserable. I thought was the younger siblings job. Nope. From day one he has been my pain in the ass. The only time he gets all big brother like is when someone else picks on me. Only he gets to do that. Sure, I love him and we are close, but there are days, take today for example, that I just want to sock him.

"To answer your question, I'm security for the studio. It's expensive living in California."

"That commute must be killer." Troi chimed in.

"I just have one question-"

"Which you asked already..."

"Shut up Troi. Fine, one more question. Do you even understand the concept of a day off?" This man was a work-a-holic. Expensive? Yes, the cost of living in California was kind of high, but I know how much a single bedroom apartment costs seeing as I had one. I also knew, roundabouts how much he made, he had enough to afford one. Whatever, If he wanted to work to death, that was his prerogative. Luckily this conversation was saved from going any farther down hill by the assistant director arriving with my dad.

"Ah excellent, you're all here. Let's get started shall we? Lia let's get you into one of the stunt cars so your dad can get the timing down." The assistant director starts things going right away, there is only so much daylight they can use after all. As I walk toward the warehouse door I could see Officer Harper looking between me and my dad, catching that resemblance. Then he glances at Troi, trying to make the connection. Besides his height and strong jawline, Troi looks like my mother. Her Italian blood is probably where I get my short temper but that's about it. It is probably only a single drops worth as I seem to turn into a crispy critter every time I'm out in the sun.

"Yes, we are blood related. No, it's not only half, even if sometimes I wish it were, then I could explain his unfortunate taste in style." I say as I pass him, patting him on the shoulder. He looks at me innocently as if he had no idea what I was talking about. I just roll my eyes as the assistant director gets his attention.

"Ah, you...uh..."

"Daniel."

"Yes, Daniel, could you go around to the other side and open the bay doors so we can get the stunt car out?" He nods and jogs away around the other side as we head into the warehouse. I find it only slightly odd that he gets away with calling him Daniel and I technically still have to call him Officer Harper. I follow the AD into the warehouse and he takes me to the second to last car. Each one is slightly different, meant for different stunts. Some are just shells meant for shots where it would get damaged. Others are modified to come apart or take big hits. They all look about the same now but I've worked with enough stunt cars to spot the differences. The last two are almost identical but I spot the show car right away. Not only because I'd driven it before but because it didn't sit as heavy on its wheels. Stunt cars have reinforced chassis that make them heavier and safer for the driver. So, I am slightly confused when the AD hands me the keys and points to the second to last one.

"We're using the show car for this?" I ask, my confusion evident.

"Don't be ridiculous, that one is the show car," He says as he points to the one on the end, the one sitting heavier on her wheels. I just raise my eyebrow at him.

"Look, we put these cars in a specific order and I double checked them this morning, this one and the one we have out in town are the show cars and the rest are all modified for stunt driving."

"If you say so," I say as I grab the keys and get in. Hey, it's not my head that's on the chopping block if he's wrong. We aren't doing any actual stunts today anyway, I'm literally just racing down this little one lane highway we've hijacked. Well calling it a highway is being generous. It's paved, or was at one point. It's still paved enough to drive this car on, but it'll be a bit more difficult. I get in and see the bay doors behind the car open, letting in the morning sun. It blinds me for a moment and I take that moment to turn the car on and put it in reverse. As I back out slowly, I see Officer Harper standing next to the door. I pause and roll down my window.

"So, how come he gets away with calling you Daniel and I don't?"

"Because he's my boss and you're not."

"Ok then _Danny_," I shrug and continue on my way, swinging around as I clear the doors and drive around to the little stretch of road I will be driving down.

"Lia," dad calls out as he jogs over. "Nothing over sixty-five, yeah? The gravel might mess with your grip. Now, this first one we're not going to fire the cannons, we're just seeing how long it takes to hit each marker. Okay?" He leans on the open window sill looking in on me. I nod at him as I fasten the racing harness. He reaches in and pulls on it in several places, making sure it's secure and isn't going to unfasten on me.

"Got it, nothing over sixty-five, just hit the markers. You'll be watching from your evil lair?" I reach for my helmet and realize I don't have it. Mentally I go through a checklist, trying to remember where it is. I swear I put it in my car this morning, but if I had I would have grabbed it when I got out...and obviously hit my brother with it when he had me in a head lock.

"Yeah, Troi is going to be watching you real time. I have to be with the assistant director to make sure the camera shots look good." He pauses and notices that I don't have my helmet and I get that look. You know that look, every dad has perfected this look on their little girl. It's a look that says you should know better. It's not a look I get from him often. He straightens up and turns.

"Troi, snag your helmet and bring it here." He turns back to me, sticking his head in the window. "In a rush this morning? You never forget your helmet." I just shrug at him. I honestly have no answer.

"I dunno. I could have sworn I put it in my car, but if that were true, Troi would have a black eye."

"Well it's a good thing I have mine, isn't it sis?" Troi says as he opens the passenger side door, handing me his helmet. I just roll my eyes and shove my head into it. The problem with Troi's helmet is his head is huge. I feel like a bobble head just wearing this thing. It will keep my head safe for today, but for the actual stunts this would be a bad thing. I am going to have to sticky note my entire hotel room not to forget it next time.

Dad taps the open window and stands up and Troi gets out as I roll up the window and they get into their positions. Dad doesn't want to fire off the air cannons yet because they're not super fun and easy to reload. They're their simply to symbolize the actual explosions I'll be going through and around during filming. Today the air cannons are filled with leaves and other foliage. Makes for a no muss, no fuss clean up. He'd tried confetti. That didn't work too well as it added hours and hours of clean up time. Same thing with ping pong balls. So, he figured, for outdoor shots, he'd do local plant life. Indoor shots was all foam cubes.

They give me the signal and I take off down the little stretch of road. There are a few curves, dips and bends in it, so it wasn't a straight shot. This is probably why dad told me to keep it sixty-five and under. Get used to the road first, then do crazy stuff. I get to the end of the set they built around this road and turn around. I see movement out of the corner of my eye but when I look closer, there's nothing there. The wind...obviously. We're in a rolling plain, wind will be blowing. But that small inkling that there is something out there doesn't go away.

"Good job Lia, now come on back I think we got it. Ready for a dry run?" My dad's voice comes over the intercom in the helmet a little crackly. I jerk my head away, thinking that'll help when I get some serious feedback, but it won't, because I'm wearing the helmet.

"Ah, Jesus...that's some serious feedback there. Yeah I'm ready. Heading back now." I drive back, getting more of a feel for the road. The gravel doesn't seem to present too much of a problem but I don't push it because this car is a sports car. It is definitely not meant for off roading.

I stop in front of the warehouse again and turn around, facing the right direction to go again. Troi jogs over and I roll the window down.

"Dad says under seventy this time. The timing starts after the fifth house and it'll come from the left. He'll guide you from there." I nod at Troi as he runs back to his spot, holding up a pair of binoculars at me, letting me know he can see me the whole way. Then he raises his hand and gives me the signal again. I take off as I did before, counting the houses this time and when I get to the fifth house I prepare for the shower of leaves. It comes and I swerve to the right.

"Next one is on your left as well, four more houses." My dad says in my ear. I count the houses and the shower of leaves comes and I swerve again. This cycle is repeated a few more times until the signal starts cutting in and out. This is not good. I don't know where the next one is coming from. It's okay for now because it's only leaves but-

Oh shit! That was not leaves! That was a piece of the set that just fell down in front of me!

"DAD! WHAT THE HELL? I thought this was a dry run!" I'm trying to keep my head as things just start exploding around me. Pieces of debris rain down on top of the car and on the windshield, which miraculously does not crack.

"-ia! ...out of there...unplanned...-BORT! ABORT!" Well that comes through loud and clear. I look around, trying to find a way out of this, but my path behind me is blocked by rubble and debris so I can't just throw it in reverse. As I'm looking around I see it, whatever it is, skulking around behind pieces of the set. It runs on two legs, that much I can see. It's short and shiny and running around behind the set so I'm only catching glimpses. It's got to be no bigger than a child but it can't be a child, it's got body armor or something. There's a loud screech and my head whips around to find has a giant, mechanical bird friend that is flying straight at my windshield! I crank the wheel and swerve to avoid it and that's when the gravel decides to be a problem. I can feel the car getting away from me. It's skidding across the road and it's nothing I haven't handled and gotten under control before. But this time I freeze. I freak out. It is not clicking in my head to react like I have been trained to react. I wasn't ready for this. I know it's only been a year but I wasn't ready to do this again. All that training means nothing when my brain seizes up because I'm terrified that this time I might not make it out alive. I think I'm screaming. I'm not sure. Normally I'd say I'm too proud to scream if I'm scared. But I'm beyond scared at this point. I'm terrified. Heart pounding in my ears, eyes wide open, life flashing before my eyes because I'm going to die terrified.

The road in front of me explodes in a shower of concrete and dirt and there is now a giant ditch I'm sliding towards. The wheel in my hands turns so fast it burns and the car turns parallel to the new road hazard. Then the car flips...it freaking flips over the ditch and lands on the other side. I'm so jostled by the landing, that bobble headed feeling from before gets increased tenfold as my head jerks from side to side and I can feel the helmet slipping off. As the car spins around the helmet goes flying off. I'm so disoriented I don't know which direction I'm facing but I try to drive anyway. Yeah that's not working out too well as I run myself right into the ditch the car just flipped over. The sudden stop sends me jerking forward and I slam my head on the steering wheel. Stars. I see lots of stars. Just not the movie kind. The movie kind don't hurt this much. Oh hey...my good friend unconsciousness has come to say hi.

"Lia! Lia! Ophelia Marie Clancy!" I groan and feel my head already pounding. The sunlight is stinging my eyes through my eyelids, making me reluctant to open them. Everything hurts. I feel like I've been tossed around a rock tumbler. I try and turn my head but a pair of hands stop me. I squeeze my eyes shut before opening them as a shadow blocks out the sun. Oh joy. My brother's face swims before my eyes. Not the first thing I want to see but his usual infuriating smile isn't there so of course he's worried.

"Lia don't move your head okay. Ambulance is on the way." I shift a little, trying to displace the gravel that is digging into my back and pain lances through my shoulder. I cry out, obviously, because it hurts like a sonofabitch. My shoulder is on fire. I've felt this before and it wasn't a picnic last time either. I am pretty sure I've broken my collar bone. Yippy skippy.

"Troi..." I grimace. God I almost forgot how much this hurts. That would be a lot, by the way.

"Shh Lia, you're okay. You've got all ten fingers and ten toes. I double checked."

"No...Troi...collar bone..." He looks down at my shoulder and I see it dawn on him. He gives me a look of sympathy. This is a common injury for people in our trade. He's broken his at least twice. I hear a car roll up, but it's lack of sirens tell me it's not the ambulance. The heavy footfalls tell me more than one person is running over and that's when I realize I am outside the car, on the ground. When the hell did that happen?

"Where...the car...?"

"Troi! That was a stupid thing to do! I don't need both of you going to the hospital in one day!" Well that's definitely my dad, just more angry than usual. I look up at Troi but he's too busy looking at dad. So I try looking around to see what's going on without moving too much, trying to focus on something other than the pain. I'm lying in the new road hazard and it's shallower than I thought. not even a foot deep. It's just wide. I see Troi's bike at the edge just laying on it's side. He ditched it. So that must be the stupid thing dad is yelling at him about. He must have hopped on and just raced over.

"Dad! I had to do something! She was screaming. We couldn't see anyth-"

"Exactly why you should have waited. We didn't know what was going on. The radio was out and Lia I love you but there is SOP for a reason." So no one saw any of that...awesome. They will think I'm crazy if I tell them I was attacked by a short person in armor and a giant mechanical bird. And let's not forget how the car acted...speaking of, where the hell was the car? I start looking around again only to find Officer Harper kneeling next to me. Super fantastic. Oh goodness is that slightly worried expression on his face for me? I don't believe it. Definitely don't believe it, he's grabbing my left arm and pulling it across my chest. Yeah, it hurts like a son of a bitch but it helps with the collar bone pain. I keep forgetting most cops have basic first aid training.

"Don't move your arm." He says. Yeah, I got that memo the last two times this happened. I just grit my teeth and try not to move at all.

"Dad, I wasn't just going to sit there and wait." I could hear my father's sharp intake of breath, getting ready to rebuke him some more, but my head was killing me.

"Oi...you two...stop it. My head hurts enough as it is. Now let me just-" I'm stubborn, I know, and I hate being grounded. I want to sit up. I want to know what the hell just happened. Stupid me. First try almost makes me black out again as the pain becomes even more intense in my shoulder. Yeah...I definitely broke it. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Ophelia don't move the ambulance is on their way." He didn't call me Ms. Clancy? Who is this person and what have they done with Officer Harper?

"Hey, only my mother calls me Ophelia and you are definitely not my mother." Yes, I will forgo pain in order to take a jab at someone. A full sentence like that seriously hurts to say, but damn the pain I'm calling him on it. He just rolls his eyes at me and I hear the sound of sirens approaching. This ride to the hospital is going to be a fun one. All those bumps in the road...and where the hell is my car!

Author's note: Oh my goodness! The snowball has started rolling down the hill. Shadow says I'm mean. That broken collar bone is not going to be fun.


	4. Chpt 4: Coffee Fiend

Chapter 4 where Lia gets to be grumpy and go crazy for a good cup of coffee.

Okay, I'm going to tell you a little something about what happens when you break a collar bone, or clavicle as the doctors keep reminding me. It hurts. A lot. Think of a stick. Break the stick. Now imagine that stick was the only thing upholding your shoulder and keeping your muscles in place. Your collar bone basically holds up your shoulder via your sternum. So when it breaks , your shoulder sags forward, making for more only is it super swollen and tender right where you break it, all those muscles get to crowd around and pull on other muscles from your back making you hurt in other places. But that's not the kicker, oh no. What makes it hurt so much is that there is a bunch of nerves and veins all clustered about right there, so not only are you in pain from the break, you're in pain from the pressure. So I am entitled to be a bit bitchy. Of course this is what makes pain killers my best friend.

The doctors have been poking at me for six hours. Normally it would take 4 tops, but they're checking to make sure none of my old injuries have decided to make a reappearance. Diagnosis? Broken collar bone (told you), a slight case of whiplash and for lack of a better term, a bump on the head. The only reason I'm not ready to rip someone's head off is because they pumped me full of morphine. I am feeling pretty good actually. My arm is in a sling as is standard protocol for a broken collar bone. It keeps the arm close to the body and immobile so the break can heal. It's not like they can put it in a cast. This is going to suck. Sure I'll be out of the sling in six weeks but that doesn't mean I can go back to work. Not my kind of work anyway. Six months to a year is when I get to go back. And I just got back. My therapist is going to love this.

"Hey at least now I have a matching pair." I tell Troi as he wheels me toward the exit.

"Yeah well, this one didn't require rods and pins. I think you would have started throwing bed pans if you had to stay her any longer." Troi mentions as he looks around. He's right though. I've broken my right collar bone twice, the second time was messy and required surgery. It was also part of a litany of injuries I was in surgery for. I try not to think about the other places I have things held together with pins and rods. They bring back bad memories.

"Troi...what happened?" He stops the wheelchair and I can tell he's struggling with how to put whatever it is into words.

"Well," he beings. "It looked like it was going fine from our end. Then things started actually exploding, and your signal wasn't coming in very clear. Then it completely cut out after I lost visual on you. All that debris, everything exploding caused a giant dust cloud. None of the cameras were catching anything either. We were all dead silent, except for dad, trying to hail you on the radio. You didn't answer. Then the signal broke through and all we heard was you screaming. I just...Lia I don't think I've ever heard you scream like that." Geeze, I must have scared him good. Admittedly I was scared out of my mind so that must have gotten through.

"Aww were you worried about your little sister? How sweet."

"I'm serious. When I got there and found you just lying in the giant hole in the road I-"

"Wait...you found me out of the car?" I don't remember ever getting out of the car. Dad double checked my harness so I shouldn't have been thrown out either. Augh...brain is fuzzy from the pain killers, I can't keep a clear thought trail going.  
>"Yeah. You were lying in that new road hazard and the car was just chillin' there on the other side. I figured you tried to get out of the car and walk and fell into the ditch." Well that did sound rather reasonable, except for the fact that I don't remember ever getting out of the car. I passed out in the car still strapped in, I think. Of course this whole thing was wacky and I'm not exactly clear headed at the moment, that hit to the head probably gave me some sort of short term memory loss or something. I really can't think about it at the moment.<p>

"Yeah, you're probably right…you and your big head are who I have to blame for this bump on my head. Everything's all fuzzy." I see my dad waiting outside the lobby doors, my little Fiesta sitting idly. Ah damn, my little Fiesta is going to be a bitch to drive. She is manual. I have one arm to drive. Fantabulous. Not like I have any place to drive for the next few weeks. Well for the next few days at least, I'll be utterly useless. Then I know I will go stir crazy and beg dad or Troi to bring me on set just so I'm not stuck watching reruns of the Golden Girls in my hotel room.

Troi pushes me out as the doors slide open. Normally I'd wave and make some sort of abra cadabra or other magical phrase reference but I'm a bit too sedated for it. My dad looks at me as he pushes off the side of my car and he grins.  
>"I see they gave you the good stuff. C'mon clumsy, let's get you back to your hotel room, it's paid out through the rest of the week, then you can stay in my room until you feel good enough to drive."<br>If I wasn't so nice and sedated, I would totally jump on that clumsy remark but a nap actually sounds best. Yeah, a nap. A nap sounds so good in fact, I fall asleep in the car on the way back to the hotel.

The next few days are too boring to even think about. Here are the highlights of my days. I'll spare you the horrid details, but suffice to say, it was room service. I'd get food and actual human interaction all in one combo. I'm sure Troi and Dad come in to check on me as I gave them each a room key, but I'm usually asleep by the time they get done on set. My dad is a slave driver if something isn't working right. Morphine is no longer my friend as we parted ways at the hospital. Now it's Ibuprofen and lots of it. Oh, there is a small high point where I find a Top Gear marathon on instead of Golden Girls. It got me all excited. But then I fall asleep in the middle of it. Just my luck.

What really sucks is trying to take a shower one armed. I don't wear the sling in the shower, I just keep my arm tucked against my stomach. This also means the return of the "pit of despair." I can't lift my arm to shave it, heck I can barely lift it to wash under it, hence the "pit of despair" moniker. And shampooing? Oh dear god, completely ridiculous. I am so glad I packed my shampoo and conditioner with the push pumps on top or else those little bottles would have been useless. Half of their contents would have been dropped down the drain. And my hair, being the unruly mass that it is, usually requires a blow dry and comb and then I put it up because it's still a frizz train wreck. Not happening. I let it air dry, knowing it will be giant mess, but I really don't care at this point, it's not like I'm out to impress anyone.

I have, among other things, an abundant amount of time on my hands to think. Between daytime television and marathons of Law and Order and Golden Girls, my brain does what it always does; subconsciously putting puzzle pieces together of any puzzle that gnaws at my brain. The puzzle this week? What the hell happened during the car crash? There are a few key points that I keep trying to piece together, mainly what were those things that attacked me, why did they attack and was I imagining it when the car seemed to move on its own. The car did flip over the rather large hole in the road, something I don't think I've ever experienced in my entire career, not without help anyway. There was no way it could have simply flipped like that. The trajectory was all wrong. I was supposed to just slide right into that gaping hole and most likely flip upside down. The steering wheel also ripped out of my hands, like someone else was in control. I have all these pieces but it's hard to put them together. My brain needs lubrication…

I'm tired of this stuff they call "coffee" they keep putting in my room. It's been a week and a half so I think I'm ready to venture out into the real world again. There are a few problems with this idea mind you. Getting actually dressed is an ordeal and I can forget about trying to put on a bra. Lucky for me I have packed in my suitcase a few tank tops with built in bras. Yeah, I know, not exactly the best thing but I don't have a whole bunch to hold up anyway and this is better than not wearing a bra at all. This does work out for me on a few levels though. I don't have to put my arm through any sleeves. I simply slide my sling through one arm hole then over my head before putting my good arm through the other side. This is not something new for me, I've had practice at this so I've gotten good at this. Oh, the other upside to wearing a tank top? It's freaking hot outside.

Pants. Ah pants how I hate you. Putting them on is a pain in the ass. Something that normally takes 30 seconds to do takes like two minutes but it feels like twenty. That saying about putting them on one leg at a time? Yeah, I literally have to put them on one leg at a time. And buttons can kiss my ass. Doing that one handed is impossible so I just sit down on the end of the bed and use both hands. I don't even want to think about trying to tie shoelaces. Pair of flip flops it is. I catch my reflection as I walk out the door and I have to stop for a moment. The downside to wearing a tank top is the bruising. My shoulder is as purple as my shirt, mixed with a lovely putrid yellow. Yeah, that combined with my halo of frizz looks awesome.

So, this Starbucks is a little far but I could use a good walk. It's still early for some people so there is traffic along my route. Apparently not a lot of walkers in this town. Not until I hit closer to downtown anyway. Standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change with about half a dozen other people when a car pulls over and rolls down the passenger window. The light changes and everyone gives it a passing glance before moving on. It looks slightly familiar to me though and I look it over more closely. It's a Ford Explorer. Not new but not too old either and I can barely see the white paint under all the dust and dirt.

"Get in, Ophelia." Oh, it's nice to know we've graduated to first names. I walk over, rolling my eyes as I peer inside. Yep, this is Officer Harper's Ford Explorer.

"What humungous favor do I owe you if I do?" I say as I lean on the open window.

"None. I just have an hour before I have work and you seem like the type to get into trouble if left on your own." Oh, he's snarky this morning. Must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

"I've been left on my own as you put it for near two weeks and I've not gotten into any trouble. So your logic seems flawed, Danny." He sighs and moves his uniform off of the passenger seat and into the back so I can sit there. Aww he really thinks I'm getting in. Well, it is kind of a long walk and I don't just want to hang around in a coffee shop all day. Sweet, I get a cop as my own personal chauffer. And since he's going to the set I can bother my brother and father. I make a big dramatic show of opening the passenger side door before sliding in.

"I need coffee. After that I need shoes." He looks over at me with a raised eyebrow before pulling away from the curb and merging into traffic. "No, I'm not shopping for shoes on a whim, don't give me that look. I need a pair of work boots that I don't have to tie. Flip flops around explosive materials is a bad idea. Besides I don't wear high heels. I'd fall flat on my face. You try on a pair and see how you fair in those torture devices."

"Ah, so they're going to let you get near the explosives then?" He says, not taking my bait. He takes a turn and I can see the Starbucks, my eyes fixing on the Siren in their logo.

"Generally? Yes. I'm a good hand at mixing powders and solvents for different sized booms. Now! To coffee!" I point at the Starbucks with a dramatic finger.

"Very caffeine motivated aren't you?" He says as he pulls into the parking lot. It appears his observations are correct as I practically jump out of the car. My brain needs lubrication, I need coffee. I need to figure out what is with that car. So, I may leave him in the dust as I head for the short line inside. I see him take a seat towards the back of the shop at the end of the coffee bar where they put out the drinks. Either he's not a coffee drinker or he already had his coffee. I go back to looking over the board, trying to pick out what I want. There are so many tasty choices, maybe I should try a different one today.

"Oh Buttercup what did you do to yourself this time?" Well I'm just running into all sorts of people today, aren't I? This particular person I haven't seen in over a year. And that presents a small conundrum as last time I saw him he was my boyfriend. Oh yes, I should be mad. Furious even. But I am such a sucker for him. My common sense completely disappears around him. I thought, after a year, I'd be immune to it, but no, one word out of his mouth and I'm having a furious mental debate as I turn around.

"Hi Jace…Same ole, same ole. Y'know…work." I forgot how tall he is. He breaks six feet, I know that. So I'm definitely looking up at him. Argh, I probably look all doe eyed and awestruck. While that may be kind of how I feel…it is definitely not the only thing. I flirt with the idea of punching him but nix that immediately as causing a scene here would deny me coffee. The big stupid grin I can feel pulling on my face makes me feel exactly that, stupid. But he's just so pretty, as most actors tend to be. Most, not all. His bright blue eyes and blonde hair are so very distracting. I feel like a kid who's been distracted by a shiny object.

"Well cupcake," he leans down, getting rather close. "If I'd have known you were in town, I would have dropped by." Him being this close, my brain feels just about as fuzzy as it did when I had morphine. Can't really keep a straight thought in my head. I can practically feel his body heat coming off him in waves. He steps forward and I step back automatically. I see that grin on his face and that grin usually means trouble for me. Most of the time it's good trouble, but nowadays I never can tell. He keeps stepping forward and I keep stepping back. That is, of course until I run out of room. My back bumps into the counter and I have an overwhelming urge to bolt. He's always been pretty good at knowing what I'm thinking and he puts a hand on the counter on either side of me. Yeah, I'm trapped. This bodes well. He looks up for a moment and I remember where I am.

"One grande caramel frappuchino with a double shot of espresso and a venti iced coffee, black with some water, two sugars, light ice, with room." Geeze, am I that predictable? I was going to order that exact frappuchino. I really am a coffee hound. "Now, my little muffin, since I don't have to meet my friend for another hour, what say you and I go to lunch? Hmm? Or I guess it would still be breakfast right now." He hands his card over to the barista with a flick of his wrist.

Say no. Say no. Say no. For god sake's say no! "Suuuuure."

"Excellent, now what say we get our coffee and-"

"This is how I roll, come on ladies it's time to go. We headed to the bar, baby don't be nervous. No shoes, no shirt, and I still get service" My phone starts shouting LMFAO from my pocket. Yay! Saved by my phone! I hope. I answer it without looking at the caller ID as that ringtone is saved strictly for my brother.

"Hey."

"Where are you?"

"Getting coffee…"

"That sounds like there's something more than coffee th-" my phone is yanked out of my hand and I can only watch in horror as Jace gets on the line. Oh I will never hear the end of this.

"Lia can't come to the phone right now, she'll call you back later." And he just hangs up on my brother.

"Jace…"

"Yes?"

"You just hung up on Troi." I can see him trying to work this out in his head before it dawns on him that probably wasn't the best thing to do.

"…oh. Well he's not in town right?" I just shake my head. Troi hates Jace. I thought they'd get along so well when I first met him because they're so similar, but apparently that's not what happened. Then, as if by magic, a caramel frappuchino appeared in front of my face and I snatched it out of the air. Mana from freaking heaven. Jace's spell is temporarily broken as I take a sip and I see the scowl Harper is leveling at Jace.

"C'mon Ophelia, we've still got to get you some shoes before I have to clock in." Jace turns toward Harper allowing me to squeeze by as I continue to suck down my frozen coffee confection.

"You're kidding right? Only her mother calls her Ophelia." I look over at Harper only to see his scowl deepen. Still, I have coffee, I'm happy. Whatever it is Harper has stuck up his butt is not my problem.

"We're on a tight schedule. She'll see you later." Harper grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the door. This, of course has a cause and effect. That wrist is attached to my hand that is holding my coffee. Him pulling on it pulls my coffee away from where I can drink it and I chase after it as if it were a carrot and I a horse. And that's when the gears start working in my head. See? All I needed was coffee. It dawns on me that maybe the attack wasn't aimed at me so much as it was at the car. But that would imply the car was sentient enough to evoke that kind of response from anything. I needed to get another look at that car. Good thing I am headed in that direction.


	5. Chpt 5: Hippocampi run amuck

Chapter 5 Where Ms. Clancy gets fancy new work boots and can't catch a break from the men in her life.

I get into the Explorer without much fuss, my mind is too preoccupied to put up much of a fight. That car. The Tesla. Maybe calling it sentient was a bit of a stretch. But it was almost as if that car had a mind of it's own. My initial reaction to it had been that it was anticipating my moves on the test track. How would that be possible? You would need some sort of super computer built into the car monitoring a litany of things about the driver. Military technology perhaps? That would explain the theory that the attack was aimed at the car and not me. But, why put a civilian behind the wheel? Of course, these weren't exactly civilian conditions either. Military funding as a basis for a film budget? I know some conspiracy theorists who would have a field day with that idea. And that might explain the giant mechanical bird and the armored midget that attacked me. Corporate espionage? Ugh...this was all way over my head. I need facts, I need some sort of proof. Spinning a tale about phantom attackers and corporate sabotage, or espionage or whatever is not what I do. And I don't have access to those two weird things that attacked me, so no answers would be found there. I do, however, have access to the Tesla.

"Question," I'm snapped out of my thought process and look over at Harper slightly annoyed. Then I look around realizing I have no idea where we are. Normally, this would be cause for panic, but this is Harper, mister stick to the rules. Nothing abnormal would be going on here. He seems to know where he's going at any rate so I leave it alone.

"What's your question."

"Who was that?"

"That...was Jace." I answer, just wanting to go back to my caffeinated candy in a cup. I assume I'd be able to, because Harper is never one to get personal. There's a first time for everything though.

"Okay. What was he?"

"An actor."

"Not what I meant."

I sigh and drink some more coffee to stall for time. I'm not exactly sure how to define the nature of our relationship. I mean, I could say he's my ex boyfriend but we never officially "split up" as it were. I haven't seen him since my accident but he's never dealt with trauma well.

"I...we...dated."

"Are you still?"

"You know, you are getting awfully personal for someone who refuses to call me Lia." I mean really? Why am I getting the Spanish Inquisition from him? _Because nobody expects it?_ The thought jumps into my mind and I squash it down, trying to remain slightly aggravated at his rather personal inquiry. What business is it of his, anyway?

"I...Look it's how I was raised ok? People I don't know are referred to by their last name out of respect. Mr. Harper, or Miss Clancy etc. Acquaintances I can call by their first names but nicknames are only reserved for close friends and family." Harper sighs and I just look at him strangely. That had to be a super formal childhood growing up for him. I can't even really imagine it, except as something out of the Victorian era.

"So, I'm still just an acquaintance, huh? Super."

"Hey, my mom raised me in a strict Irish Catholic household, we're all very formal. It's a hard habit to break."

"Oh, well, I bet she'd just loooove me, liberal atheist that I am." Why did I just say that? No seriously, why did I just imply there was a possibility of me meeting his mother? What is WRONG with me? Stupid Lia! Stupid stupid stupid!

"Nah, I think she'd like you, freckles and all. You're a nice, Irish girl." My face, I'm sure at this point, is very red. I can feel it burning hot. Instead of answering right away, I look out the passenger side window, sipping on my melting frappucino. I notice I have no idea where we are. Normally this would be cause for alarm, strange car, with a strange man and all, but I'm not worried. As far as I've seen, Harper is as straight laced as they come, as evidenced in his refusal to call me Lia.

"So, you seem to know your way around here pretty well." Nice subject change Lia. Simply the best. Why don't you ask about the weather next, you big idiot.

"Yeah, my cousin lives out here, so I stop by from time to time. I've gotten to know my way around." He says as he pulls onto a side street and into the parking lot of an army surplus store. I never would have even known this was here. He puts the car in park and I have a small moment of crisis. Do I leave my coffee in the car while we go in or do I take it with me? I don't even know if they allow food inside the store, and if I leave it in the car it will become a melted mess by the time I get back. Then I said fuck it, put the coffee in the cup holder and get out of the car. I see Harper grab his phone as we head to the door and I open the door for him, knowing it'll stick in his side that I'm holding it open. Sure enough, he gives me a small glare and puts a hand on the door, motioning for me to go in.

"After you," I say and I can see he's about to argue when whoever he's calling answers on the other side.

"Hey Riley, it's Dan. What are those boots that Jodi wears everywhere? Yeah, zip up ones." I raise an eyebrow at him but get nothing in response as he heads inside and I follow after. There are a myriad of things one can find in a surplus store, and this one appears to be no different. I pass by the counter and see a box on the counter labeled "box of fun". Curiosity piqued, I peer into it and find a bunch of different pocket knives. I start to reach for one then stop myself. I'm here for a purpose damnit, getting distracted by sharp pointy things I don't need is not on the agenda for the day.

"Ophelia!" I hear Harper call out from down an isle somewhere in the store. Ah, a viable distraction, just what I need. I wander away from the aptly named "box of fun" and seek him out.

"Marco." I call. I can't see the top of his head anywhere over the racks and shelves in the store, but to be fair, some of them are stacked up pretty high.

"Polo." I walk closer to the back of the store and find the shoe section. Boxes upon boxes stacked up to the ceiling with display models perched on the edges of boxes jutting out ever other box. Some of the shoes are Lugz or Caterpillar boots, things I would wear on a normal day. I don't really have that luxury. They have some Vans that I consider but with some of the tools and equipment I'll be walking around, I can't buy something that flimsy.

"Hey, you're between a 7 and 8 right?" I stop looking at shoes and turn to find Harper holding three boxes in his arms. It takes me a second to register his question and look closer at the boxes. They're boots, ranging in size from 7 to 8, women's sizes.

"I'm not going to ask how you know that." I walk over and try to grab the top box, the size 8, but with only one hand it's hard. I slide it off and cradle it against my side, looking for a bench to sit on and try them on. There's one at the end of the isle and I walk past Harper and plop the box on it before sitting down myself, opening the box. Inside are black combat boots with a zipper up the side. How thoughtful. I take one out, kicking off my flip flop and unzipping the side of the boot. I drop it on the floor and shove my foot in, standing up to feel how the boot fit my foot. I like it. It's solid, like I expect a combat boot to be. I pull all the paper and cardboard out of the other boot and throw that one down on the floor, repeating the process with shoving my foot into it. I really like these. Ok, time to zip them up and take them for a test run around the store. I sit back down and place one foot on top of a knee, trying to zip it up. I barely get two inches. What the hell? Oh, they've tied them very tight, fantastic.

"You want some help?" I hear Harper ask, but I'm a big girl, I can do this. I just wave him off and pull the knot apart at the top of the shoe then go down the center and loosen the laces. Now comes the hard part. Tying them back up. First I zip them then start tightening the laces but I can't make a knot to save my life. I try several times but I just get more and more frustrated.

"Stop...lemme do it." Harper bends down and puts my foot on his knee. Then he starts redoing all my hard work, re-tightening my laces. I worked hard on those!

"I feel like Cinderella...but you are definitely not Prince Charming." He yanks the laces at the top to tighten them, and I sense perhaps he doesn't like my insinuation. It's just a hunch, so says the sudden pain in my ankle.

"Yes, well Cindersoot, I think these will work just fine. So sayth this cobbler." Harper says, standing up and dusting off his pants. He goes about gathering up the boxes as I stand up, testing out the shoes. He called me Cindersoot. I thought his rule was no nicknames unless you were his friend. Nah, better not think too much into it, he was just running with the reference I made. Besides, I needed to focus on other, more important things. I walk around the store a bit more, deciding on buying the shoes. I grab a pack of socks off a rack because wearing these things without them is already starting to feel gross. I quickly unzip them and place them in the box, slipping the flip flops back on and heading to the counter.

Twenty minutes later I am back in the explorer, playing with a new benchmade pocket knife. Harper had convinced me to put the one I had grabbed from the "box o' fun" back. But, but then, I had it in my head I needed a knife so I was determined to walk away with one. Then I go to thinking about what I'd use it for. Mostly my knives need two hands to close. Not really gonna work in this situation. This one I can flick my wrist and it swings out. It takes some force but I can do it one handed. The locking mechanism is easy to undo with one hand. So, $300 dollars later, I had myself a pair of work boots and a knife.

"You seem a little too happy playing with that knife. I'm afraid you're gonna stab my dashboard and start carving away." I close the knife one last time, just feeling the weight of it in my hand. Then I give Harper a rather crazed grin.

"Why, whatever gave you that idea?" He just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, trying to hide a smirk.

"One more question, Daniel. When are you working for the CHP if you're here doing security?" I say as I put the knife back in my pocket.

"I'm not here all the time, Ophelia. I do four days on, three days off with the CHP. Then those three days I spend here. It's a tight schedule but I make it work." Jeez...real work-a-holic this one. I eye him suspiciously before taking another sip of my frappucino, making a face at it's sad, watery state.

We pull into the makeshift parking lot next to the warehouse and I turn in my seat, letting my legs dangle out the door to start pulling on my socks and shoes. Harper seems to be in a rush as he simply opens the back and climbs in to change his shirt. I catch a glimpse, okay a few glimpses, as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, taking the undershirt he has on with it at least half way up. I'll admit I'm staring, he's very well put together, in spite of all the donuts he eats. He obviously doesn't spend that much time outside shirtless as he's rather pale but damn if he doesn't have some nice definition. Oh shit. I've been spotted. I hastily zip up my boots, grabbing my now completely watered down frappucino, and stumble out of the car, not looking back. I know my face is redder than my hair. I hear the car doors shut and hurry into the makeshift garage. I immediately spot the car I was driving toward the far end of the room. Some of the others have been retrofitted with panel damage or harnesses for the camera to peer inside and capture the actors' face while he drives. There's even one that has a gutted front end so they can place the camera there and drag it along behind another car or put it in a flatbed to make it appear the car is moving.

There is never just one car in a movie production and there is always several crash cars. Sometimes I have far too much fun recreating crash damage on a shell. It's rather cathartic. I make a bee line for one of the few cars still intact and begin looking it over very carefully. There is nothing. To the naked eye, there is nothing that says this car is different or special. Nothing that shouts "top secret technology". It simply looks like a Tesla.

"Hey...Lia, whatca doing here?" I look up as Dad walks over, confusion talking over his face. I can practically see the scenarios running through his head on how I got here. Did I steal a car? He did teach me how to hot wire them. Did I hijack one? I am a very determined young woman when I want to be. Did Troi bring me?

"I was getting coffee when Officer Harper offered me a ride."

"Ah," he nods, wiping his hands off on a red oil rag.

"Any idea why your brother is as angry as a hornet's nest at you? Y'know, so I can either duck and cover or play the dad card." Oh. Right. The phone call. I had completely forgotten about that. I sigh heavily and drop my head.

"Jace hung up on him." My dad purses his lips at this new information, but the rest of his face remains impassive. I know he doesn't feel as strongly as Troi does about Jace, but he isn't my dad's favorite person. He crosses his arms and waits for me to expand my explanation.

"He was behind me in Starbucks. He took the phone right out of my hand!" My dad just shakes his head.

"I should have told you sooner but I didn't think you'd run into him..." Dad's lips twitch into a frown and I look at him curiously, a small stab of panic running through me.

"Told me what?"

"Jace...has a part in this movie." I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath and letting it out in an exasperated sigh. Fucking perfect. That would explain so much, mainly why the hell he was even here. I could feel my head swimming already at just the thought of working with him, and the thought fills me with dread. See? I am calm and rational when he's not clogging up my airspace. I do NOT want him here, anywhere near me. I don't want to be pulled in again. But we all need to work.

"Of course I'd run into him, dad. It's a small town. There aren't that many places to go." We both look up at the commotion being made outside and I can hear my brother stomping around. He pushes open the door, grumbling angrily and kicks the door closed. Whooo boy. My brother in a nutshell. Always running high on some emotion or another. Mom would say it's the hot Italian blood, and dad...dad would say we Clancy's are just passionate. Whatever it is, Troi and I tend to get into trouble with our tempers. He looks up and sees me and I can tell he wants to yell. At me? I'm not sure. I sure as hell know he probably wants to at least punch Jace. I blow an errant strand of hair from my forehead and roll my eyes at him as he stalks over.

"Lia-"

"Don't. Don't even start! Whatever the hell you think happened, it didn't. And even if it did, Troi, I am 22 fucking years old. I'm an adult." I glare at him. He runs an exasperated hand through his hair and I can see, as he gets closer, he's been doing that a lot. His hair is practically standing on end.

"You may be 22, but you're still my baby sister. And he's...he's such an asshole. I do not want to see you like that again. I don't understand what you see in him. I don't." My glare at him softens a bit. This isn't the shouting match I was prepared for. Troi's heart is in the right place and it makes me hold my tongue. He had to deal with the aftermath last time. I want to try and avoid feeling like that again, if at all possible. Those first weeks out of the hospital were torture.

"But if you want to go and get hurt all over again, fine. You're an adult, like you said. Just don't expect me to hold back this time. On him or you. How'd you get here anyway?" I am about to answer when the door opens again and Harper steps inside, most likely doing his rounds. He takes one look at us and turns around, wanting to give us privacy.

"Daniel actually brought me," I say loud enough for him to hear. His shoulders sag, resigned as he turns around. His mouth is turned downward, into a frown. It's all over his face, _"Why are you dragging me into this?"_

"I was just walking to Starbucks to get coffee and head back to the hotel when he spotted me. Offered me a ride. Look, Troi, I didn't even know Jace was here. He surprised me at the Starbucks. And you know how much of an attention whore he is. He didn't even know it was you on the phone." Troi looks over at Harper, his anger dissipating, replaced by a mischievous grin. Crap, that grin usually means trouble.

"So, you got your own police escort? Cool. Hey Daniel, mind adding my sister to your list of things to check on with your security?" Troi folded his arms and leaned against the Tesla I was inspecting. I frown at him, kicking him in the shin. He winces but his grin remains. Harper slowly wanders over, scratching his nose nonchalantly.

"I dunno, Troi. She seems to need a lot of looking after and I don't get hazard pay." I purse my lips and look between Troi and Harper who are grinning like idiots at my expense. So Officer Harper does have a sense of humor, it just happens to use me as the butt of its jokes. It seems Troi has made a new friend and now they're ganging up on me. Troi even got Harper to use his "nickname" for godsakes! I full on pout and look at my dad, knowing he can't resist me when I'm pouting. He puts his arm around me and gives me a light squeeze, mindful of my shoulder.

"Now, now boys, my little hippocampus doesn't need looking after. As previously stated, she is an adult, even if she pouts like a petulant child." Troi laughs and I look at my dad, traitor that he is. He can't ever just say seahorse, nope it's got to be the proper Latin name or nothing. Harper just raises an eyebrow after his laughter dies and looks at Troi, mouthing the word at him questioningly. I glower at all of them.

"Oi, thing one, thing two, and Dr Doom, none of us are getting paid to stand around and make fun of me. Let's go." I grouse.

"How did you manage to get away from Jace anyhow? I know it usually takes a crowbar to get you out of his clutches."

"I plied her with coffee. Then dragged her out. I was going to be late and I promised I'd drop her off here. Couldn't very well leave her at the Starbucks." Both Troi and my dad look over at Harper like he was some damn miracle worker. I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated groan, pushing past Troi and Harper to find the lock box that has the fob keys for the working Teslas. From behind me, I can practically hear the smile in Troi's voice.

"Daniel...I do believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

AN: Hi guys! Sorry it stops there. I just had to get _something _up for you. I felt bad. There's this thing, that happened, called the holidays. I work in retail, which means when it's the holidays, everything else is put on standby. Holidays ate my soul. I've only just now begun to recover...and then school started. Oh Also, I actually did go around for a week not using my left arm, trying to figure out certain things. I started doing it subconsciously at one point. It's hard! You never know how much you use your arms in tandem until you can't use one anymore. For those of you who caught it, there is a slight reference to N.H. Moonshadow's story Disregarded. This story is Disregarded compliant and I will put up warnings and such as the story goes on. It takes place about a year after the end of hers. And also, a hearty shout out to my lone reviewer, greengirl011 you spurned me on to finish this damn thing. You get awesome points. Also, I kept telling myself I had to finish this thing before I even went near another fandom that has consumed me. Freaking Sherlock. I may or may not have something up for that. We'll see. I should focus on this thing though. I have plans...big, GLORIOUS PLANS! MWAHAHAHA*cough cough cough* need to work on my evil laugh.


	6. Chpt 6: Ms Scarlet! Ms Scarlet!

Chapter 6: Where Lia pulls a Ms. Scarlet

Two hours. Two fucking hours I've been looking over this Tesla and I've got nothing. Short of taking it apart bolt by bolt, which I am sorely tempted to do, there is nothing. But after two hours of a full inspection I have nothing. There is nothing overly different about this car that I could see apart from a weird maker's mark. I went over it with a fine toothed comb. I lifted the seats, checked under the dash, even felt around in the trunk. The lining was even and there was no hidden latch that could open some secret compartment or ultra super experimental computer. As it is, the only unusual thing on the entire car is a maker's stamp on the engine block cover. It looks like a strange face and a quick look at the other drivable Teslas tell me that it's not something they put on every car. I run my fingers over it, a feeling in my gut telling me this car is different; special. This face looks like something you'd find in a cave, drawn by a person thousands of years ago. That or a practice in minimalistic design, using block shapes and negative space to form the basic contours of a face. I dunno, I've never seen it and I've seen a lot of cars. I think it must be some sort of maker's mark; a little signature left behind by whoever worked on this car.

In one last desperate attempt to figure out just what this car is, I pop the cover on the charge port and stick my hand inside. I try and see if it will turn or twist, like a combination lock. Nothing. I am out of options. My father's tool chest sits open on the work bench, calling to me. I stride over, now determined, and pick up a socket wrench. I can take this car apart and put it back together. I know I can. Just...not in a small amount of time. I look at the engine block longingly, wanting to take off that blasted cover. I wave the socket wrench at it threateningly, glaring. Then I sigh, tossing the wrench over my shoulder, leaning back against the work bench. I rest my chin in my good hand, tapping a beat on my cheek as I think long and hard about picking up the wrench again and saying "Fuck it" and just attacking the car.

"Lia!" my dad pops his head in through the door, breaking me out of my reverie. "Stop being a bump on a log and come help the new girl with mixing. You may not be a driver any more, but you're still on my payroll." Ah. Dad is in serious mode. This gives me good news at least. I'm still getting paid, just not as much as normal. Gives me an excuse to be on the set at least. Sure they get visitors but I can't just loiter around, that'd be creepy...and leave me open to another Jace attack. Best to keep busy any way. Mixing explosives is something that can keep me very busy. Teaching someone is even more time consuming. My dad is very specific with his recipes. He is one of the best in the business because of this. He has had years to perfect his mixtures and they aren't industry standard. His are closely guarded and only after he trusts you enough, does he teach you his secrets.

I spend the rest of the day really earning my paycheck. This happens with all of dad's new minions. They have learned how to handle and mix nitrates and what level of dynamite or ammonium nitrate is needed to get different types of desired effects. Add in a little petrol and you've got heat and giant balls of flame if you need them. So, a more than basic understanding of chemistry is needed for this, as well as a very steady hand. But when dad has new minions, he basically strips all of their knowledge down to bare bones and rebuilds everything they know from the ground up. Hence why I am most definitely earning my paycheck today. After an initial run through of one of my dad's easier recipes, I always get the strangest looks. Most of the time, it's horror. Dad is slightly heavy handed in his mixing, and each and every person we teach has had it drilled into their head to be careful and have a light hand. Less is more and all that bullshit. Usually dad likes to have a hand in their learning as I have zero patience, but apparently Dad has a full plate with the rest of the production so, being his best student, it falls to me. It takes all of my patience to teach her a few recipes, but it's partially my rusty knowledge and her questioning _everything_ I am doing. But after I start remembering, it becomes easier as I turn on a technical switch in my brain. Apparently that's all she needs to get it, is technical talk, nothing in simple terms. Strictly chemical compounds and bonding agents and formulas. Blah, I hate formulas, but it's like we're speaking in code. Long, laborious code. I haven't had to in forever, so it takes awhile for me to get back into speaking it.

That's how this day ended and I got sent home. Apparently, I still need to rest. Troi ended up doing a night shoot but Dad comes back at a relatively decent hour. Of course, they both leave me in the hotel room and go back to work. I can understand Dad doing that, he's rather scatterbrained when it comes to working and he prioritizes everything based on what the plan is for the day. So, I'm left in my hotel room. Again. Fuck that noise. I got out before, I'll do it again. I've tasted freedom (Starbucks) and there is no way in hell I'm going back to that shit they have the gall to label coffee. Being restless as I am, I get up pretty much the same time as I did the day before. Go through the same routine with the shower and the tank top, but now I've got work boots and I plan on calling Troi to come pick my ass up later. My shoulder feels a bit less sore today, but I still take the ibuprofen as prescribed because I know, all too well, that if I don't, I am going to be in for a world of hurt.

So, I start out as I did the day before, trekking to the Starbucks. God, it's still early and this heat is horrendous. At least it's a dry heat, in the beginning of June. My hair doesn't need any encouragement to be more of a disaster.

I'm standing at a cross walk, waiting for the sign to change, when I have a very odd sense of deja vu. An older model Ford Explorer pulls over right in front of me and I walk over to the open passenger side window, smirking.

"So, is that your favorite corner or...?" Harper paused and as my eyes adjust to the dark interior of his SUV I could see he realizes what he just said. It is kind of adorable really, I don't think I've ever seen him blush or get this flustered before.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean- it's just that you were standing on the corner, like were yesterday and I didn't mean to imply that-"

"Daniel."

"Yeah?" He looks at me, embarrassment written all over his face.

"Shut up."

"Ok, I just, I really didn't mean to-"

"You can stop digging now. Put the shovel away." I smirk at him, trying to reassure him and get him to stop babbling.

"Right. Um, need a lift?"

"Sure, and I think, if I were going to stand on a random street corner, it would be in a busier area. But I quite like my health insurance and dental plan so I don't see any major career changes in my future." I grin, opening up the door and hopping in. I can see he's unsure whether to laugh at my self depreciating humor so I just smile at him. He quickly nods and pulls back into traffic, driving me to heaven, I mean Starbucks.

The rest of the day is pretty hum drum, I'm actually on location today because dad needs a second pair of eyes. As said second pair of eyes, I get a tool belt and a smidgen of authority. We have three of the Telsas with us today, two for filming interior and one for outside. The rigs for filming interior need constant tweaking so I'm always running in and double checking one of the minion's work. I hang back after awhile though, confident Sam, one of dad's most tenured employees, has perfected it. The director is happy with the final few tweaks Sam applies himself for the angle of the camera and the range of motion it can get. I wander over to another part of the set, that's built on hydraulics to simulate an earthquake or some sort of massive shake up. The set itself is about 5 feet off the ground and I can hear my dad cursing from underneath it.

"Dad? Need help?"

"Yes, Lia, you're small, I can't reach this line, my hands are too big." I weave my way towards where my dad is, toward the back of the set and I can see exactly what he's talking about. There's a jumble of wires in between two lifts and the only opening is a hole about baseball size in circumference. There are other ways to access these wires, easier ways, but I can see the hydraulic fluid leaking out from one of the lines. If we were to get to it at any other junction, we'd have to rip out the whole line. Dad just needs me to pull it out far enough so he can repair it; repairing it being a two handed job. I reach in and try and grasp it, but the leaking fluid makes it slick. Takes me a couple tries before my fingers wrap around it completely. My hand may be small, but it wouldn't go past the last joint on my thumb into that hole. So I hook my fingers around it and gently ease my hand back out.

"No tweezers?" I look up at my dad as he has his tools in hand, ready to receive and repair the damaged line.

"It was too slick, couldn't get a good enough grip on it. Oh, hey, while you're here could you go around and check the other lifts? Make sure they're all air tight and check the pressure levels?" I nod and leave my dad to his repairing and go about doing a standard few tests with a pressure gauge and double checking the numbers on the computer. This takes up a good half an hour and by then my stomach is auditioning for Audrey II. I wander over to the food table they have set up for the staff and start making myself a plate. My sandwich is one of epic proportions. I do not skimp on sandwich making. I make Shaggy and Scooby proud with my layers of tomatoes and bologna, salami and roast beef, turkey, ham and cheese, several pickles, mayo, mustard, the works. I am going to enjoy this sandwich soooo much.

"What's up, buttercup?" a voice whispers in my ear. I have a lovely little deer in headlights moment as I had just popped a piece of melon into my mouth. I turn to find Jace grinning down at me. Why do things that look so god damn beautiful have to be so bad for you? He looks like he just got out of the make-up chair and they covered him with dirt and grime. The five o'clock shadow he's rocking just makes him look more rugged and suddenly I find I want a bite of him rather than the sandwich on my plate. NO! Bad Lia! Stop it! Lusting after this man has brought you nothing but trouble! Hehe, lust. He does look sexy. Like something I want to-

"Low blood sugar?" I snap to, realizing he's talking to me. I probably have a stupid grin on my face and everything. In fact I know I do, because the only time he looks at me like _that_ is when I have that stupid grin. Next line is gonna be "my trailer is just over there." and that's something I should probably avoid. Like the plague.

"Ah, yeah...only had coffee this morning and this heat is killer." One step back at a time Lia, that's the only way out of this. One step away from him, backwards, keeping your eyes on him. That's right. You know where he is this way so he can't sneak up on you again.

"Pity. You should have told me, we could have done breakfast," he smiles at me, taking a step forward. "And then lunch." Oh, I'm in trouble. That smirk makes me think he wants to eat _me_. It's very predatory and reminds me of Bruce from Finding Nemo. _Fish are friends, not food my ass._ His hand reaches out and cups the side of my face, his thumb running over my cheek. I am frozen. My feet have stopped moving. I am still that deer staring straight into the headlights of an oncoming car. A collision is inevitable. He closes the gap between us as I stand there and he leans forward to whisper in my ear.

"You know, you always did look best all covered in grease. It's like your own brand of makeup." His voice sends a shiver down my spine. There was a time where I could say, with absolute certainty, that the shivers were a good thing. Currently I could not tell if I am shivering out of excitement or dread. Both? Both. Yes, both sounds good. I am suddenly not hungry at all, my stomach having decided it wants to twist into knots.

"HEY! STOP!" Yes, it's cliché, but it is literally like a bucket of ice cold water is dumped on me and I turn around to see Harper chasing after some wiry guy headed straight for us. The guy looked slightly crazed, black hair flying everywhere as he ran.

"Oh jesus," I hear Jace groan as this guy comes running at us. Jace grabs me around the waist, pulling me back toward him and out of the way just as Harper leaps at the guy, tackling him to the ground. In all the commotion, the plate with my carefully crafted sandwich is knocked out of my hand. I look down at it dejectedly while Harper restrains the guy on the ground. Jace has a fairly tight hold on me, peering over my head at the whole thing.

"This guy...he never gives up."Jace groans. Harper looks up at Jace then as two other security guards come over to help him.

"You know him, Mr. Cunningham?" Harper asked, hauling the guy to his feet.

"Know me? Of course he knows me! We're friends! Tell 'em Jace."

"He's a crazed fan. Has a tendency to try and break onto the set at 'Fraternity Row' ," Jace says, jumping a bit as the guy struggled against Harper while the other two guards each took an arm to take him away. I have this strange sense Jace is keeping me firmly in front of him so I wriggle free of his arm, still pouting about my sandwich. I may not want to eat it right now, but still; all that work wasted. Ugh, I feel a headache coming on, and my stomach has untwisted itself slowly, which is making me nauseous. Oh I need to sit down, these spots I'm seeing are not good.

"Hey, whoa, hey!" Harper puts a hand on my shoulder, steadying me on my feet but my knees buckle and before I know it, I'm in a heap on the ground. My head is swimming as I bring my hand up to cover my face. I can feel both of them on either side of me, crouching down and invading my space. Their body heat is only adding to the scorching rays of the sun over head. It's suffocating.

"Lia?"

"Ophelia?"

I groan in response to them, trying to push them away.

"Have you had anything to eat today? Besides the coffee this morning," I hear Harper ask, his voice soft and gentle. I peek up at him then glance over at my sandwich that lays scattered on the ground. He follows my gaze and I see understanding wash over him.

"Of course she hasn't. Typical. You always skip breakfast and work too hard. C'mon buttercup, you need food and air conditioning." Jace says to my left. He scoops me up like I'm nothing and just starts walking, presumably to his trailer. I thought I was supposed to be avoiding that place. But air conditioning sounds nice. Heavenly even. It's summer for crying out loud, and we're in Nevada. It's fucking hot. Of course the only other thing I can complain about right now is my shoulder. It's pressed up against Jace at the moment and he has a rather firm hold. It's not something that is an intense pain, but it is a dull throbbing annoyance.

"Mr. Cunningham," a guy comes over with a headset and a clip board, looking very stressed out. This has to be one of the assistant directors. No one else looks that stressed out on a film set besides the producer. They are in charge of call times and the general day-to-day running of the set. If things don't run smooth, they are the first to hear about it. You know that saying, "shit roles downhill"? Yeah they get the most of it and just distribute it to everyone else. Jace, of course stops in his trek to deposit me in his trailer to look at the guy. He's shorter than Jace, by about a head. Rather plump too and sweating bullets.

"Yeah?"

"The director is getting impatient, sir. Your call time was 10 minutes ago." Jace looks down at me, pursing his lips. I can tell he's torn. He wants to put me in his trailer, and a small voice in the back of my mind is consistently yelling at me not to go there. Avoid at all costs. RUN AWAY! Finally Jace looks over at Harper and holds me out to him, expecting him to take me.

"You. Take her to my trailer, it's that one over there on the left." Jace motions with his shoulder as he dumps me into Harper's arms. Harper, on his part, doesn't hesitate as Jace just hoists me off on him. I am suddenly very aware of myself and how dirty I must be. No. Not that kind of dirty! I'm covered in grease and grime and probably getting it all over Harper's shirt. He probably ironed it this morning. With starch. He seems like someone who would use starch.

Feeling awkward, I put my arm around his shoulders and purse my lips as I turn to look at him. Jace goes off without even a goodbye trailing behind the stress monkey, I mean assistant director, chatting away the whole time.

"So..." Harper breaks the awkward silence with an awkward transition after Jace is out of sight.

"Yeah..."

"I take it you don't really wan to go to his trailer?" My brain blanks out for a second as if the idea seems ridiculous.

"Uhhhh...no, not really." I finally spit out. "Although there is the air conditioning to consider." Now that Jace is no where in my immediate vicinity, I can see what a bad idea it would be for me to be in his trailer. It would be easy for me to fall back into hold habits. Of course, there is a reason why they are old. They are habits I really shouldn't pick up again. But damn if it wasn't good and when I say good I mean fantastic. Nope...I was wrong. Brain is still a little fuzzy. I should really get that looked at.

"Well," Harper said. "It's his trailer. He'll have to come back eventually. Most likely while you're enjoying said air conditioning." He starts walking us toward the medical tent instead and I frown.

"That's a valid point. But here's another one. I'm fine. I don't need to go to the med tent." I insist. I call it a med tent but it's actually another trailer. It's mostly for us idiots that over work ourselves, though on occasion people have come in with a few more serious injuries.

"It has air conditioning too." Oh, he's good.

"In that case, onward Jeeves!" I grin.

"Don't make me drop you."

Several cups of orange juice and a few cookies later, I'm feeling much better. The air conditioning does wonders for one's health after all. Harper deposited me after telling them what happened and then promptly left. I am only slightly miffed about that. He does have a job to do after all, securing things or whatever. Can't really expect him to stay. Yeah, only a tiny, miniscule amount of miffage going on here. Yes, I am well aware "miffage" is not a real word. I don't care, I bet you make up words all the time. I think I've taken up enough of the med team's time though and I really should get back to work. Of course, Harper seems to have a knack for impeccable timing as he walks through the door, back first.

"Coming by to check on me?" I say as I stand up from the cot they had sequestered me on. He turns and I can see he's got plates in his hands full of food. I raise a curious eyebrow. He must be very hungry. "Or are you just hiding in here for lunch?"

"Ah, bit of both. Figured you were still hungry because all they have here are cookies to munch on. Here," he says as he holds out one of the plates to me. I look at it suspiciously, seeing a sandwich and a random assortment of fruit and a bag of chips. I take it, lifting off the top piece of bread to inspect the the contents and my jaw hits the floor. It's not just an ordinary sandwich, it's my sandwich that I dropped. Obviously not the same one, that one ate the dirt. But as I look through all the ingredients, I see that they are all there, right down to the radish slices. I look up at Harper to see him already digging into his sandwich. He looks up at me, mouth full and eyes wide, like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What?" he asks around his mouthful.

"You...My sandwich...How?" I try to get a whole sentence out but I'm too flabbergasted to string one together. Harper takes a moment to finish chewing and then swallow.

"It wasn't that hard. The ingredients were all on the ground. And, I was studying to be a detective back in Boston." He shrugs, as if that explained everything, before going back to his sandwich. It explained _nothing!_ Why even go through all that trouble? What was the point? I get that he's nice, but who is that nice? I mean seriously, to go through a totaled sandwich just to make a new one, _I don't get it!_ Ugh...I need to talk to my brother. People I don't get, men especially.

My stomach, having been presented with the very thing it thought it had been denied, makes a rather loud protest and I dig in. Holy hell, this, to me, is what heaven tastes like. I don't even remember finishing the sandwich but when I look back at my hands, it's gone. Not even a crumb left behind for evidence. I grab a piece of fruit and start munching on that, not really paying attention to what I grab. Ew. Honey dew. Under ripe at that. Soooo bitter! Blah.

"Hey, so, I take it you're going to try and walk to that Starbucks again tomorrow morning?" Harper asks as he throws away his empty plate. I grab a grape off my plate to cleanse my mouth of the bitter taste before answering.

"I think so. My brother and father keep strange hours and they make me stay behind to get rest. So I'm stuck without transportation thanks to my collarbone. Why?"

"I'm going to be driving that way, again, and I was wondering if, instead of just randomly happening upon you walking, I just pick you up since it's inevitable."

Inevitable, he says. Pick you up, he says. This guy. He makes my head hurt. At least with Jace I know what he wants. He's very straightforward. But hey, he's offering me a ride to the set, which I did not have a guarantee of before. I can figure out whatever the hell is going on later. A ride is something I can agree to now.

"Sure. Pick me up on my favorite corner?" Harper just laughs and nods.

"Yeah, your favorite corner."

(A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the wait! I've gotten this thing called a tumblr. And it kind of invaded my life. Because the Avengers came out and I went down a deep dark hole of Tom Hiddleston. But never fear! I have the next few chapters planned out. This one I had to cut in half because if I had kept going, it probably would have gone to 11+ pages and I never would have gotten it done! So! Hopefully with in the next two weeks I should have another one up *fingers crossed*

Also, for those who are interested, my tumblr is madlibbsneedsaverb(.)tumblr(.)com (Remove parenthesis) Be warned it's filled with Supernatural, Sherlock and Doctor Who with a smattering of Jeremy Renner appreciation and random other bits I come across.)


	7. Chpt 7: Lessons in explosives

(A/N: Disregarded spoilers ahead! Just giving you fair warning. Though Shadow said it was ok to write it, I'm givin' ya fair warning! It's a "major" spoiler in the way of character development so if you don't want spoilers skip everything with Jodi in it. Your loss, she's fun. Cade on the other hand is like pulling teeth. So YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Now back to our regularly scheduled program)

This morning is complete chaos. Troi actually came in at 11 last night. And face planted right into one of my pillows. I wasn't using it at the time, but it was still annoying to be jostled awake by a loud fwump and the impact thereof. I don't think he realized this was my bed and I was frankly too tired to care. This morning however was a different story. He's a sprawler. Being that he's my brother and I wake up to find his face two inches from mine and his arm flung over my abdomen I was grumpy. He's heavy. Also he has the worst morning breath ever because he sleeps with his mouth open, and breathes...right into my face. I throw his arm off me and stumble into the shower, and go through my routine. I take my clothes into the bathroom with me and put everything on, this time opting for shorts now that I know just how hot it gets out there. Then I get a look at myself in the mirror. No. This will not do. My hair, even just towel dried, is a total disaster. I cannot go out like this. The more I brush it the more it frizzes. Pretty soon I will be rocking an afro. Ugh! And it's going to be hot outside so if I don't put my hair up, It's going to be gross. Yesterday was no fun, but I can't put my hair up one handed.

"Troi!" I get a grunt in response. I open the door and walk over to the bed. I kick him until he moves. Of course I forget what happens when he's half asleep, he goes on instinct. Next thing I know I'm in an ankle lock. I have to pivot on my other leg to stay standing while yelling at him to let go. He wakes up just in time to see me topple over, going face first into dad's bed. I twist to the right to avoid landing on any part of my left arm and get the edge of the bed in the side. These are hotel beds so they're quite fluffy. I do not need to add bruised ribs to the list of injures.

"Troi." I try again, sitting on dad's bed cross-legged. I grab a pillow and put it in my lap to lean on.

"Whaaaaat?" he grouses as he turns to look at me. This is when I put on the baby sister charm. There are a lot of things Troi can resist, but me playing the baby sister card, especially when he's half asleep, is not one of them.

"Would you braid my hair for me?" I say meekly. I even raise my voice up a few octaves. I swear when he looks at me when I pull this I think all he sees is twelve year old me, complete with braces and bushy hair. He can't resist twelve year old me. That was my awkward stage and he got in soooo much trouble for fighting back then. Mainly he beat up people who were picking on me. He purses his lips at me and groans as he sits up.

"Fiiiiiiine. What do you want, normal or french braid?" Little tip, training big brothers young to braid your hair because mommy is on set and daddy is all thumbs is always a good idea. Troi has been braiding my hair since I was five, he's gotten pretty good at it though if anyone ever asked he would flat out deny it. Unless he is dating them. That, apparently, he doesn't mind.

"French please," I say as he gets up and walks around to the other side of dad's bed and kneels behind me. His fingers are quite nimble but I try not to dwell on that overly much as he tugs everything into place with swift dexerity.

"So, why do you want your hair braided today? You didn't even have it up yesterday."

"I didn't have it up because I couldn't put it up. And it's hot Troi, the back of my neck was like a jungle yesterday." I huff.

"Uh huh...sure. Then why not ask me to just put it in a pony tail, sis?" he's gotten the braid down to the base of my neck and yanks it back to get me to look at him. I simply glare.

"Because, dear brother, a braid is much better when working around machines." He pulls lightly on the end of the braid again and shakes his head.

"Yeah, that. Or the fact that Daniel is picking you up today and Genevieve taught you how to mussy up your hair just enough to look windswept yet adorable." Genevieve works in hair and make up and is one of my oldest friends. I used to be her guinea pig for make up experiments when she was going through school. She taught me all sorts of fun tricks to make me look good. I don't use them half the time because I don't have the time, but if I actually do make it out to a premier, I do call upon her expertise. But his theory about me wanting a french braid because I want to mess it up is ridiculous. Why would I do that? The random strands will come out on their own anyway, they don't need any help from me.

"Why would I need to look adorable? I'm just getting a ride from the man." Troi just sighs and continues to braid my hair. There is a lot of it so it of course takes him awhile. He also seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Now I know he's doing it on purpose. But I can't rush him or he'll just go slower. The bastard. I guess now is a good a time as any to talk to him about stuff.

"Troi, can I ask you a question?" He stops braiding as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

"The questions that follow those words are never things I want to hear."

"Would you shut up and just listen for a minute?" His silence is the cue I get to continue. "So, hypothetically, if you dropped a sandwich you had just made, and it was like the masterpiece of all sandwiches and someone took the time to make you another one that was exactly the same because they could see all the ingredients, how would you feel about that person? How do you...why would they do that?" I can hear the snap of the hair band as he finishes the braid and the bed sinks lower as he sits down. He's not answering me so I get up and turn to look at him slightly worried. He's just looking at me with one eyebrow cocked and his lips pursed. I hate it when he looks at me like that.

"Seriously? You are seriously asking me this?"

"Yes I'm serious!" I throw up my one good arm in frustration. He just starts laughing at me. He falls backwards onto the bed holding his stomach and laughing. I pick up a pillow and start hitting him with it.

"Troi! I'm serious! Answer the damn question." He grabs the pillow from me and clutches it to his chest, laughing into it and I glance over at the clock realizing I should start walking. I actually have to be somewhere at a certain time for once.

"Forget it! I have to go! Asshole!" I yell at him over my shoulder as I head out the door. I slam it behind me and head to the elevator but I'm not even three steps out the door when Troi jogs after me and falls into step.

"Forget the hypothetical and tell me what happened, then I'll tell you what it means." I glare at him as I push the button to call the elevator but start to tell him the whole story as we get in. I tell him about how I was at the catering table, building my sandwich, and about Jace, which of course he starts to frown at but I shush him. Then about the crazy guy on set and Harper tackling him and the downfall of my sandwich. Then my trip to the medical trailer and Harper surprising me with my sandwich. He's a rather open book, at least to me. He is my brother so I've gotten very good at reading his facial expressions. Right now he seems thoughtful but he's not being very forthcoming with his opinion.

"Ok, so what's the deal?" I say as I get out of the elevator and head for the lobby doors.

"Well, he wants to be your friend, obviously. He's trying to go from 'acquaintance' to 'friend'." I look at him curiously as we start walking down the street.

"How do you-"

"Know about all that? I like the guy Lia, while you were laying around in bed, I made friends. And that was one of the first things I was curious about. Although I find it hilarious the way it rankles you so that he calls you _Ophelia_. I don't think I've ever seen you so frustrated." I punch him in the arm as we come up to my so-called favorite corner and look around for a familiar Ford Explorer. I guess we're early since I don't see him yet so I look back at my brother who is just smiling at me. That smile...it always means he's hiding something. It's a lazy smile that gives his eyes a mischievous glint. Lord only knows what it is.

I see the Explorer pull over and roll to a stop next to us. He waves at Harper as I open the door and Harper waves back but he's in the middle of a conversation. He doesn't seem to have a blue tooth so he's talking on speaker phone as I get in the car. I wave at him and nods back as he merges back into traffic. He doesn't seem completely pleased though.

"What about her boyfriend? Can't he watch her or something?" he says to the phone, obviously distressed.

"No, he and Prowl are off doing brother bonding or whatever, they didn't tell me where they were going."

"Riley, she's 17, why does anyone need to watch her?"

"Because, Danny, school is out for the summer and you've met her, she gets restless. She has wanderlust. Just for one day, ok? I'm sure she won't get into any trouble with you."

"But I just can't bring people on set Riley, and I have a job to do. I can't watch her the whole time."

"I can watch her," I interject and Harper looks at me like I'm a crazy person. I am, but that's beside the point.

"Who's that?" the voice named Riley asks from deep within the phone.

"That's Ophelia."

"Ah, the stunt driver, yeah that'll work if you're too busy Danny."

"I can use an extra set of hands seeing as I'm down one. Hope she's handy with a tool belt." I look over at Harper questioningly at the revelation that he's told people about me. He's probably only told them that I crashed on my first day out and busted my clavicle. Yeah, that's not embarrassing at all.

"Oh, yeah, she knows her way around an engine and a few electronics. Danny, I'll drop her off soon ok? I gotta go." I can hear stuff going on in the background of the call but it's hard to make out. I try and strain to listen but Harper chimes in.

"Riley, wait. How long is she gonna be there?" He asks, his accent coming out, but there's no answer. There's some shouting in the background of the call before it cuts out and I look over at Harper who is gripping the steering wheel in frustration. I poke him in the shoulder when we stop at a red light and he turns to me, his mouth a thin line.

"Would you relax? I'll keep her out of your hair if it's that big of a deal. I've got plenty of stuff she could do."

"That's not what I'm worried about," He says as the light turns green and I see the Siren sign in the distance. My mouth starts to water in anticipation.

"Oh really? What are you worried about?"

"Troi has told me stories. I'm worried about the kind of trouble you two would get into if left to your own devices." I'd punch him in the shoulder if my arm wasn't in a sling but I settle for blowing a raspberry at him as we pull into the parking lot. I do the normal routine of getting my crack in a cup and Harper makes me scarf down a breakfast wrap while we're here. We arrive on set and find that the precocious 17 year old is not on set yet. Harper goes off to clock in and I head to the "b.o.o."* to see what dad may need me for. I find him wrist deep in the cavity of some cannon swearing to himself.

"Knock, knock," I say as I step inside. He looks up at me and his eyes are very distorted behind the binocular headband he's wearing. He must be working with fine details to use those things. I smile at him because he looks like a cartoon character and he pushes back the headset to look at me.

"Damn thing looks like a rat's nest. I think something got inside and made a home. All the wires are chewed up or torn apart." I walk over to take a look and see what he's talking about and catch an eyeful of the tangle of wires that are just spilling out of the side. It looks like an electronic version of ripping out someone's intestines. The wires are trashed. I step closer, curious as to what could have crawled inside and made a home and something looks off. These wires aren't frayed like they would be if something chewed through them to make a nest. These look cut, cleanly at that. What the hell?

"Dad lemme see your glasses," I ask as I lean over the cannon. He takes them off and puts them on my head and I push them down into place, grabbing a handful of wires and seeing the same thing over and over. These wires don't look chewed through, they look cut. I put the wires down and look closely at the outside of the cannon and see scratches and gouges indicative of animal disturbance. Well at my best guess that's what it would be, nothing else has claws like that to leave those kinds of marks. They just seem to concentrate along the seam where the paneling comes off so we can do repairs. Like something was trying to pry it open. This is getting too weird.

"What do you see, Lia?"

"I...don't know. I guess you're right, something got inside and made a home. What else could it be? You have a replacement one? Because there is no way this thing is going to be repairable in a short amount of time. You'd have to rewire the whole thing." My dad shakes his head in the negative and and I scrunch up my face. This is going to take all day, if it goes fast. Looking at the appropriately titled rat's nest of wires inside I'd say this is not going to be fast. I'm probably going to be the poor sap who gets to do all the repairs. My dad is a big fan of being volun-told. You don't volunteer, you get volun-told.

"I sent Sam back to the warehouse in Santa Barbara this morning. Hopefully he'll be back late tonight. We don't need it until tomorrow." My sigh of relief must be very noticeable because dad frowns at me. I just shrug at him. "I wouldn't make you do this anyway, gimp. You'd still be putting this thing back together after we finished shooting."

"Ha. Ha. Ha, dad. Anything else I can do then? I get my own little minion for the day apparently, so pretend I have two hands."

"Yeah, one of the cars needs prepping. Think you can manage that? The staging directions are on the driver's seat." I nodded and headed for the door into the warehouse. I don't know what time the girl is coming so I just go to work at the car, thinking Harper will find me when she arrives. There's a new car in the warehouse that looks like a beat up old sedan and I'm assuming that's the car dad wants prepped. Sure enough I look in the driver's side and see the packet of papers. I reach inside and glance over the stage direction to see what the director is looking for. Goodie, I get to play with explosives today! Mainly some C4 and or Semtex for the big boom, and a few base charges under the car to help flip it over. Reading through the script again I see someone gets a hold of a rocket launcher. Hey, I don't ask questions, I just make shit blow up. The car is already up on a few jacks and I grab a creeper* and slide on under the car. Once under there, I make sure the gas tank has been removed and that this car is ready to be destroyed. Check, check and double check. This is a hollowed out shell. It has the basics, like a drive train and wheel axles so we can maneuver it on the set but it would be all manpower. It's like a really heavy push pedal or box car. I take a chalk pencil from my pocket and mark off the places I'm going to place the charges before giving the bottom of a car a more detailed look over to see if anything here I can take out so it won't become shrapnel.

"Lia, you got anything in your hands?" I hear my brother say. I tell him no and next thing I know his foot is on the creeper, dragging me out from under the car. "Found something that belongs to you," He says as he offers me a hand up. I look at him strangely as he pulls me to my feet.

"Daniel says she's your extra pair of hands." He hikes a thumb behind him and I catch sight of a small slip of a girl. She looks like she could be passed off as Troi's kid sister more than I ever could with her dark brown hair and tanned skin. She also doesn't look anywhere near 17 years old. She's dressed like the rest of us out here with any sense in a tank top and jeans and as I wipe my hands off on my shorts I wander over and get a better look. That's when I see her scars. I keep telling myself not to stare, it's rude, but I'm fascinated. I'm torn between her eye and her arm. The scar on her right eye is partially obscured by her bangs but the bright pink scar that goes up the length of her forearm is hard to miss. It looks fresh, still healing but as I stop to stand before her I can see it's smooth. It's so very strange. Stop staring Lia!

"Hi! I'm Lia. Daniel neglected to tell me your name." I say as I offer my hand out.

"Jodi," she says as she shakes it. She brushes her hair out of her face and I catch a glimpse of her eye up close. STOP STARING! If she wanted you to know, she'd tell you.

"So, how comfortable are you around cars and explosives?" I ask and she looks at me curiously as I wave goodbye to Troi. I start guiding her over to the workbench then I stop, because I can't just teach anyone how to wire Semtex to a detonator. "And what does your dad do for a living?"

She stops walking and I turn around to look at her. She looks contemplative and I wonder if I've said something wrong.

"You mean Riley?"

"Yeah, that's who I talked to on the phone, right?" She starts laughing and pulls out her phone and shows me a picture. This guy is hot. In an exotic way. He's a ginger, a really dark ginger. Auburn really. But that's not what gets me, it's his eyes. They're a deep chocolate brown and they just want to draw you in. One of his parents had to be Asian because he's a lovely mix. But then the other half of my brain kicks in and realizes there is no way this guy is her dad. None. At all. He looks Troi's age, maybe a little older. Can't be over 30. Hang on lemme do the math, if she's 17 and he can't be over 30 that would put him at 13 when she was born. Yeah, no, slim chance there. I mean...it's possible but he doesn't even look like her.

"He's my guardian." Jodi says as she puts the phone away and I nod, accepting this as the obvious answer. "And he's a cop."

"Oh good!" I clap my hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "I can teach you all about detonators and not worry you'll use them for nefarious purposes. You won't use them for nefarious purposes, right?"

"No," she smiles and I grin right back, leading her over to the workbench. No, I am not contributing in the delinquency of a minor, Harper knows exactly what kind of stuff I do. Henceforth he was rightly worried earlier but he didn't say no. So, seeing as I have only one good arm and she has two, I instruct her on how to make detonators for the next few hours. Obviously the first few aren't going to be spectacular, but she does pretty damn good for a first time out. She picks up things I'm telling her a lot quicker than I expect so pretty soon I have her wiring the detonator for the actual explosion for inside the car. Jodi seems fairly comfortable wiring a block of C4 into the detonator for someone who is only just learning to handle explosives and I show her where to secure it into the car. A few more of those placed strategically within the car and we've got ourselves a car ready to be exploded.

"One last thing. We need to put charges on the underside of the car so it will flip like the director wants it to. Obviously the car won't actually flip if shot by a rocket launcher, but that's the magic of Hollywood for ya. How comfortable are you with power tools?"

"Pretty comfortable," she replies matter-of-factly.

"Cool beans, grab the power drill, the blasting caps we prepared earlier and those last two detonators and a creeper and meet me over by the car." I point out to the things I listed off before heading to grab my own creeper and a few mounting brackets and bolts and head over to the car. Jodi seems to be a quick one as I see she even grabbed an oil pan and put our tools in them to drag under the car. She lays down on the creeper and slides under the car like she's been doing it for years. I follow suit and slide in along side her.

"Ok, see those chalk X's? We're mounting our blasting caps there. Take out the power drill, we need to pre-drill some holes."

"Here and here?" She points on either side of my X and I take out the mounting bracket and hand it to her.

"You tell me." She takes the bracket and a chalk pencil I had given her and marks off where the holes needed to be for the bracket and as she reaches for the drill, her phone goes off. She pulls it out of her pocket, hits the speaker button and sets it next to her head on the creeper.

"Why hey there 'Cade. A little early to be checking up on me, don't ya think?"

"Blame Prowl. Not running into too much trouble?" A deep, gravely voice emits from the speaker. I'm not sure what I was expecting but that is definitely not it.

"Trouble is relative. Currently playing assistant," she chuckles lightly. "Kinda reminds me of our early days, actually, but with more volatile components, if you can believe it." I can see the grin on her face from here. It must be some inside joke between the two but I point at the other X and she slides over to mark the areas for the drill on the next one. The pause on the other end of the line is noticeable though.

"What exactly are you doing?" He sounds more curious than anything.

"Presently I'm rigging a car to explode. Learned how to make detonators about an hour ago. " There is dead silence on the other end. Then a small laugh filters through.

"And they think you only get into trouble with me. Didn't know Daniel had such a ...destructive hobby."

"He doesn't. I'm helping Ophelia with the set."

"The stunt driver?" Harper! I'm going to torture you until you tell me exactly what you told them! What the hell did he tell them? Why does everyone know about me? God this sucks.

"Yep." She nods slowly, even though she's talking to a phone.

"Remember to take it easy or the doc will take it out on all of us."

"He worries too much. I'm fine. Everything is going good as expected. Tell Prowl to stop hovering. I'll talk to you guys later. You're picking me up, right?"

"Me or Riley. Either way, you have practice tonight, no excuses."

"Killjoy." She says as she reaches for her phone, hitting the end call button. I hand her the power drill and she loads the drill bit in, turning the head to lock it in place. Then she goes about drilling holes for the mounting brackets. I hand her the socket drill bit and a screw after she places the mounting bracket over the blasting cap and she screws it in place. We shift over to the next one and she screws that in place as well.

"Lia!"

"Ah here comes the mad scientist." I quip as I do a once over on the work Jodi had done.

"Mad scientist?" She looks at me confused. I slide out from underneath the car and sit up, waving at him. His hats off so his hair is even worse than mine is on a good day.

"Yeah dad?"

"That car all done yet? They need it in town," he says as he wanders over.

"Yep, just finished putting the blasting caps on the undercarriage. All ready to go boom."

"Ah good. I'll get the tow truck in here." He took one look in the car to check our work, then, satisfied, he walked back outside to get the tow truck. I go to stand up only to find Jodi offering me a hand. I look at her unconvincingly but she just frowns at me. There's no way she can actually help me up, I have at least 5 inches and 50 lbs on this girl. But I shrug and take her hand and once again, color me surprised. She helps me up and it doesn't even look like she breaks a sweat.

"Ok," I look at her, the millions of questions inside eating away at me. "I have to know, what the hell did Daniel tell you guys about me?" I start off small, and let's face it, that's the main question I want to know the answer to right now.

"Not much, just that you had an exciting first day and that's why he was home so late." Home late? How long did he stay at the hospital? He wasn't there when I left. I mean I was there for six hours so he could have been there long enough to hear my prognosis.

"Oh. Yeah. That. How I broke my collar bone. Eh," I shrug. "At least I'm still mobile."

"Which car was it?" She asks, walking farther into the warehouse toward the Teslas. I follow her and point toward the one in the far back. Apparently they're working with what they think is the show car today so they left the stunt car here.

"That one in the way back." She walks forward and looks over the car, walking around it slowly. She runs her hand over the hood and disappears on the other side. She must have bent over to look at something because her dog tags are visible. I've seen dog tags sold in stores with pictures on them, symbols and sports paraphernalia, but hers catch my attention.

"Hey...that's the symbol."

"What?" she looks over at me. I'm pointing at her chest and she looks down, picking up her tag to look at it.

"That's the maker's mark on the engine block," I say as I walk over to the driver's side door to pop the hood. I run around to the front of the car and feel under the hood for the latch. I practically throw the hood open in my rush but Jodi comes over and pulls out the bar to prop the hood open. I point at the maker's mark on the engine cover and look at her curiously.

"I've never seen it before. Do you know what it is?"

"Me? No, I saw this in a hobby shop while I was traveling and thought it was neat." She shrugs, glancing over the engine block, joining me under the hood. I pull my head out just in time to hear the side door slam open as it crashes against the wall. Jodi jumps slightly, almost hitting her head on the hood, cursing under her breath. She steps back as I drop the hood and I find my brother huffing and puffing his way over to me. This never bodes well. Normally that look is the result of one of three things; a girl, me, an actor. Right now I couldn't begin to venture a guess as to which one it was.

"Lia. I need you to translate." He says, running a rather frustrated hand through his hair. I look him over and notice he's in very comfortable clothes; mesh shorts and a tank top. He must have been running through a scene. So, best guess, this is about an actor. But still I stare at him blankly. What the hell does he mean "translate"?

"For Jace. You speak idiotese, right?" I here a snicker and look over to see Jodi leaning against the Tesla, watching us with amusement.

"Troi..." I start to say.

"I mean, not only do I need a translator for idiotese, I need it for the prima donna dialect. You've been known to communicate in their language. Please. I need you to talk to him in itty bitty words."

"Troi...about what?" I hear Jodi trying to hold back a laugh but keep focused on my brother. He, unfortunately is not as focused. He's very easily distracted.

"What are you snickering about over there?" He turns toward Jodi but I grab his arm, trying to reign him in.

"Troi, focus. What is Jace doing?"

"Besides being a twat?" I let out a long suffering sigh and drop my head down dramatically.

"What is he doing _now_?"

"How come you get a minion and I don't? I'm older."

"Troi!"

"Fiiiiiiine, I'm trying to teach him a combo and he's not getting it. He can't even get past the opening step. He keeps throwing his shoulder back when I need it tucked forward. He's going to injure himself in the toss. He's not getting it and I'm about two seconds away from throwing him for real so he can see why he needs to tuck in his shoulders when he lands." I stand there for a moment, "translating" as it were, in my own head, running through a few different scenarios as to why they had come to an impasse. Jace was pretty stubborn in his own way but he took direction well. He'd have to in order to be an actor. He didn't have enough films under his belt to be difficult to work with yet and day time television is fast paced and demanding. On the other hand, my brother already doesn't like him, so he's already coming in frustrated. And if Troi gets frustrated, he tends to stop teaching you what you need and just starts showing without much instruction. I've been on the receiving end of a few lessons like that, and he got stuck inside his own head. It's good that I'm his sister and can bring him up short if he's being ridiculous.

"What kind of combo?"

"He's getting tossed into a room and I'm trying to teach him how to breakfall so he can get back up. And this is only the first part. Once he's up, he's gotta start punching people but he can't if he doesn't get the hell up. This is literally a 'be quick or be dead' scenario and he's falling flat on his face."

"I think I can help with that," Jodi pipes up, walking over. Troi looks her over and I think he's going to immediately dismiss her. But he purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows, actually thinking about it. Then he nods.

"Ok, c'mon pibsqueak, let's go. Troi turns on his heel and heads back outside. Jodi follows quickly after and I traipse along behind, catching sight of Jace standing on some mats, tapping his foot impatiently. I see the dour look on his face as he catches sight of Jodi and I inwardly groan.

"Sorry," He says. "I don't do autographs on set." Jodi balks at him, looking up and frowning.

"Who're you again?" Jace's eyes get wide and he lets out a gasp that sounds like he just got punched in the stomach. Troi is beaming down at her. She has just won Troi's seal of approval.

"I knew I liked you for a reason. Now, Jace, Jodi here is going to show you what you need to be doing since you can't seem to grasp this simple concept yourself." Jace is glaring at him but he keeps his mouth shut as Troi instructs Jodi to toss herself to the ground, roll through and get back up. She is surprisingly springy. He has her go again, this time pointing out to Jace why he needs to tuck in his shoulders. He can't roll through onto his back if he starts at the front of his shoulder. He has Jodi do it a few more times before asking if he can toss her, to show Jace what it will look like on camera. He tosses and she rolls through beautifully. Now it's Jace's turn. I had watched him take all this in and I can tell he's getting it. He needs visuals and I can see the moment it clicks in his brain. The moment he goes for the breakfall I can see it's going to work. Troi makes him do it again and again, drilling him until he more or less has it down.

I can tell Troi would like to keep drilling him but he's behind schedule already and Jace needs to learn the rest of the move set. He gives Jodi a few simple instructions and runs through a quick back and forth with her to see if she understands. She more than understands, she's automatically reacting to Troi's movements. Troi is grinning from ear to ear at this point and I can tell he's made a fast friend.

"Now remember, slow and easy, he needs to learn the order so he can hit his marks. He needs to know how to react so the others can react to him and not look like they're being hit by air. This isn't a fight so much as a dance. There are steps to follow, in order. That way no one gets hurt and we make it look like we're actually fighting." Troi is in full teacher mode at this point, his earlier frustrations forgotten. He uses himself and Jodi as stand ins for the opponents Jace is going to be fighting. He has Jace start at the top, rolling through and back to his feet and Troi calls out the steps; one, two, three. It's like watching a super slow motion fight. Troi starts to play simon as it were. Adding one move after Jace has the last one down and then making him run through the whole thing again with the new move added. After one successful full run through, he calls a break.

"Ok, obviously Jodi is half the size of the stunt guy but you're just getting steps down today. Tomorrow we'll do a few run throughs with Kurt, that way you're comfortable with reacting to him. Now, we're gonna do one last run but we're gonna go faster this time ok?" Both Jace and Jodi nod, drinking from their respective water bottles before setting back at their marks. The fight happens quicker, like Troi said it would. He's setting the pace and it's not full speed, they each have enough time to see what the other is doing but I can see Jace struggling to keep count in his head, struggling to keep the steps in order. He slips though and takes a swing at Jodi early. Her reaction is instantaneous as she ducks and upper cuts him. Then she freezes, slightly horrified.

"I am sooooo sorry!" she says, mortified that she hit him.

I catch sight of Troi, who's lips have disappeared into his mouth as he clamps it shut. His eyes betray his mirth though as he looks like Christmas came six months early.

"Sloppy Jodi, very sloppy. Should have deflected instead of dodged. Would have brought you farther inside his guard. Prowl would be disappointed." We are all suddenly made aware of a stranger that has just walked up to watch our little demonstration and I get an eyeful. He is...wow, he's hot. He's Troi's height but twice his width and that appears to be all muscle. His voice is familiar, a deep baritone with a slight gruffness to it.

"You _would _nitpick when it's not an actual sparring session, jerk." Jodi turns to him with a grin.

"_More_ inside my guard? I think she knocked a few teeth loose!" Jace complains loudly, holding his jaw.

"You'll live," the newcomer glares at him.

" 'Cade!" Jodi chastises him and it clicks in my head. The dude from the phone. Jesus. Where does this girl meet all these good looking guys? Hot-Guys-R-Us? First her guardian is what I classify as a grade A hottie and now this guy? Ay caramba.

Troi suddenly grabs my hand excitedly and I look up at him. He still looks like a kid at Christmas and is hopping from one foot to the other.

"Can I keep her? Pleeeeeeaaaassse, please?" I see 'Cade glaring at my brother out of the corner of my eye as Troi continues to plead.

"Please can she be my minion? Please?" Troi smiles sweetly at me, batting his eyelashes. I roll my eyes at him.

"Fiiiine, but you'll have to check with dad if there's room in the budget. You know he'll be on your ass about unpaid minions." Cade's glare lessens somewhat as he understands my brother is just over excited and wants to work with Jodi more. Troi beams at me and grabs me for a light, one armed hug.

"Best sister ever! Oh, that reminds me. Snagged you a rental car this morning since Dan isn't going to be here for the next few days." Troi guides me to the back of the warehouse where a black Dodge Charger is sitting.

"Really? A Charger? Troi-"

"It was that or a Prius."

Internally I twitch. There is a reason I drive a hamster ball and not something with a V8. Speed and power. Two things that would get me in so much trouble. I would have lost my license ten times over by now if I owned one of these. That puppy is fuel injected and has tons of torque. On the other hand is a Prius. Boring, quiet and not something I want to be behind the wheel of. I may drive a hamster ball but it's not without it's perks, like it's handling. A Prius is just...ugh.

I hold out my hand for the keys and Troi drops them there with aplomb.

"It's automatic, obviously since you're still a gimp." Troi grins, ruffling my hair. Cade and Jodi come around the corner as I walk over to inspect the car, making sure Troi hasn't put any dents in it that I might get blamed for.

"Nice car. Prowl and Riley drive one of those." Jodi said, coming to look over the car.

"Speaking of Prowl, he's waiting for us." Jodi looks back at Cade with some exasperation but heads back over to him.

"And why isn't he here too?"

"I figured one of us nitpicking at you was enough. C'mon, we've got a walk." I wave at Jodi and Cade as they walk off back up the road before my phone starts to ring. It's my dad, giving me something else to do while the day is still young. I head back into the warehouse, pocketing the keys to my "new" Charger.

*B.O.O.: Base of operations

*Creeper: That thing on wheels mechanics use to roll under cars and look at the stuff. Yeah. We're real technical here at Stranger than Frisson

(A/N: Sooooo sorry for the long wait, here's a long chapter! It would have been a shorter amount of time if Shadow hadn't wanted to read it every twenty seconds. She's excited. Giddy as a school girl actually. The next chapter will be fairly short as this one was cut off. But I promise there won't be such a big gap in between this and the next. I know I've said it before but I'm serious this time. The fun starts next chapter. Well, fun for me, mwhahaha)


	8. Chpt 8: Call Me Maybe

**(A/N: Hi all! Here's another one! Now, for those of you confused about Barricade and Prowl, I'm kindly pointing you N.H. Moonshadow's awesome story Disregarded. There you can learn all about Jodi and Barricade, Prowl and Riley and why Barricade isn't running around with the 'Cons in this. You can find the story in my favorites or favorite authors. Can't believe I haven't done that before now. Her story is a bit farther along and we have long chat sessions to make sure our stuff lines up. It's her fault this story even got started to begin with. Happy reading! )**

My dad gives me orders to work on the solar panel prop, adding an electronics panel that would light up when turned on.

"Make it fancy," he says. "but not ridiculous. It's supposed to be a piece of shit." He already has several prototypes splayed out over the workbench in the warehouse but apparently the director likes none of them singularly. Dad thinks my "artistic flare" at putting things together would be better than his apparently horrible attempts. I head inside the warehouse and spot someone on the far side next to the "stunt" Tesla, hunched over my dad's work bench. That is a very big no-no. There are a few people that dad employs that are allowed to touch his tools. This person looks like none of them. He is wiry with platinum blonde hair going every which way, like he had been running his fingers through it for years and it had just gave up and decided to grow that way.

"Hey!" I shout at him and he looks up at me, startled. Whatever he was working on crashes to the floor and he just sort of...fizzles out of existence. Now I'm the one that's startled. My mind is racing. People don't just disappear like that. Not naturally anyway.

"Ha. Ha, very funny guys, playing around with a holographic projector isn't productive," I say cautiously, keeping my voice as steady as possible. I step forward slowly, looking around. I receive no answer and that does wonders for my nerves. Of course holographic projections can't knock things over, they're nothing but light. So someone must have rigged that thing to fall. I take one more look around and don't see anything, refusing to think that it was, well I'm not even going to think the "G" word. They don't exist. I work in movies and I make those things come to life onscreen for my dad. I don't see them in real life. I rely on science. Supernatural happenings always have an explanation.

I stop, my thoughts switching tracks. What if that person is still here and it was just the heat that was playing tricks on me? I may be trained to defend myself but I've got a bum arm and this isn't my job. Before I go any farther in, I pull out my phone and call Troi.

"What's up?" He answers after a few rings.

"You have Daniel's number? Or a way to contact him?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I just...umm, the warehouse, I though I saw someone. I'd like security to secure it." I hear Troi laughing on the other end. I'm not amused. I walk backwards toward the door, keeping an alert eye on everything in the warehouse, just in case he comes back in.

"Troi, I'm serious. He was messing with stuff on dad's bench and I startled him but I didn't see where he went. I don't know if he's some crazed fan with god knows what on him." My anxiety must go through the call very well because he stops laughing immediately.

"Ok, yeah alright. He was just here, gimme a sec I'll just go grab him." I can hear lots of goings on in the background, meaning he's probably the few miles up the road on set. He must have pulled the phone away from his ear because I hear him calling out to Harper and I catch snippets of the ensuing conversation. Whatever it is, Harper doesn't seem too happy.

"He's trying to find the guy who is supposed to be in your area. Apparently they beefed up security around here after that guy broke on set the other day." Troi comes back on and his tone of voice is considerably more serious. I am suddenly very curious as to what is going on. I guess I won't have long to wait to find out. Still, the seconds drag on like minutes and I find myself looking every shadowy hollow for movement. Christ, I'm getting paranoid.

"Damnit!" I can hear Harper through the phone clear as day now. "The guy went on lunch and no one went over there to replace him. Keep her on the phone until I get there!"

"O...kay. Apparently you get to have a conversation with me while you wait." All the laughter from earlier is no longer in my brother's voice. Call it some sisterly sense, but I have a feeling he wants to come with Harper to check on me. Suddenly my paranoia doesn't seem so out of place. I slowly back out the door, keeping an eye on the inside of the warehouse.

"Oh goodie, let's talk about our feelings." I say sarcastically. Troi just snorts on the other end.

"Well I like playing with My Little Ponies and I hate it when the other boys make fun of me for it. Braiding their hair is so much fun! It's not girly, I dunno what they're talking about." I start laughing, which I guess is the point. It certainly eases the tension in my shoulders. Leave it to my brother to make me laugh with something that ridiculous. Truth is though, he used to play with Troll dolls. He'd have them march against my army of Barbies, using miniature catapults and trebuchets he built with dad.

"Dear lord do you watch the show too?" 

"Of course! Although I do have back up with that. Bronies, man. We're everywhere." This ranks up there with the most ridiculous conversations I've ever had with my brother, but it's so out there, it's taking my mind away from the overactive imagination section where I imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios for why Harper is in such a tizzy to get over here.

"Which one's your favorite then?" I laugh as I ask the question, the whole thing feeling absurd.

"Rarity. She's such a diva. Just like moi. You seem like you'd like Pinkie Pie, cause you're just that kind of crazy." For a moment, I pause, staring at the phone in disbelief. Does my brother actually watch My Little Pony? Where the heck would he find the time? Then I realize I don't care, this is too funny, and it's not one of his crazier eccentricities anyway.

Behind me I hear the crunch of tires on gravel and the rest of my anxiety disappears. The car slows down and turns off and I hear a door slam shut.

"Ophelia?" Harper calls out, his voice sounds steady and strong, almost calming. Probably something he uses all the time while working. I call back out to him as he heads over and I say goodbye to my brother, letting him know Harper had arrived. He jogs over toward me looking concerned.

"You ok?" He asks. He looks tense, his hand already on his holster as he peeks around me, checking inside the warehouse.

"Yeah, I'm fine, there was just someone..." Suddenly I feel stupid for getting all worked up over nothing and having him drive back here. I'm not helpless, far from it. My arm may be in a sling but I have picked up a thing or several from Troi over the years. I see him scanning the warehouse, taking my overblown worry seriously and it gives me pause. He had Troi stay on the phone with me until he got here, and he seemed angry that there was no security replacement for the guy on lunch. Is there something I should actually be worrying about?

"Daniel...how come you're being so serious about this? When I told Troi, he laughed at me."

"Well," he says, stepping around me and into the warehouse, keeping one hand on his holster the whole time. "Your brother's a clown. For another, Jace has some crazy fans. The security team is really the only ones privy to how crazy."

"...and that concerns me how?" I've never been on the receiving end of crazy fan mail. I've been on the fringes of it; seen some of the stuff Jace has had to deal with but most of that was mild. I have no idea what kinds of fans Jace has attracted over the past year. Harper keeps looking over his shoulder at me, one hand back towards me as if to keep me back or shielded from whatever or whoever may be lurking in the warehouse.

"So...I'm gonna tell you something that doesn't leave this room." he says quietly as he starts clearing the warehouse methodically.

"...okay" I say as I follow him towards where I saw the lanky man.

"Yesterday Jace got a picture in the mail..."

"Lemme guess, of some girls boobs?" I giggle. He had received tons of those a day. I don't know why, it's not like he goes girl shopping through his fan mail. It's mostly his costars and staff. Harper looks back at me, frowning for not taking this seriously enough. I let the smile drop as he goes back to looking through the warehouse.

"No, it's from the day you fainted-"

"I didn't faint."

"Fine, succumbed to exhaustion. Point is, someone got on set after that other guy broke through." He straightens up, taking his hand off his gun, apparently satisfied there is no one but us in here. " It's a picture of him and you after he picked you up to take you to his 'air-conditioned' trailer. Whoever sent it scratched the word 'WHY' into it. Since it came to Jace, the security team figured he was the target, despite my protestations...Opheila?" He stops his continual scanning, which he seemed to be doing more out of habit now than actual worry, to focus on me. I could feel the color drain from my face as he put his hands on my shoulders. My head is spinning with what ifs and could have beens for that guy that I saw in the warehouse. And there would have been no one around to hear me shout for help. My breathing becomes shallower and my vision becomes fuzzy. Some part of my mind is shouting that this is a severe overreaction; it must be the rational part of my mind, but that has taken a backseat to my horribly overactive imagination. It's something I have seen a thousand times played out on screen, and in scripts. I work a lot of horror movie sets when I'm not stunt driving, and they always start out like this. I scream internally at myself to stop it, to think rationally about this, but it's such a small a squeaky voice I don't even hear it until I feel arms wrap around me in a hug.

"Ophelia. Listen to me. You're fine. You will be fine. Nothing will happen to you, I promise." I take a deep breath as his words wash over me, and that little rational voice in my head is not so little any more. I take a few more deep breaths, my head resting on his shoulder, trying to calm my nerves. This is ridiculous. This isn't a movie. Harper is a much more competent cop than those Hollywood likes to portray in their movies. Of course nothing major like that will go wrong.

"I'm okay now. I'm fine." I say, lifting my head off his shoulder.

"You know what fine stands for, right?" He grins, still not releasing me from his hug. And currently, I'm not complaining.

"Yeah yeah yeah. I was in the remake of the Italian Job. I know. Who do you think drove those minis? Hmmm?" I grin, my heart rate at a much more normal level now.

"So...Care to show me where you saw him?" He asks me with a smile. I am only too happy to oblige.

A few hours later I've picked up the pieces of whatever it was that guy was working on. I can't make heads nor tails of it, but he was using several of dad's prototypes. The wiring is all a mess and doesn't seem to really link up to anything. Harper had helped me pick all of it up, just to be sure there was nothing harmful and because being one-armed does limit my carrying capacity. I dig through this mess of wires and motherboards, LEDs and random electronics separating it all and finally seeing something I think the director will like. The main component was at one time a 7 inch tablet. It still functions; touch screen works and all but all the guts are spread out over the workbench. First thing I do is work on the display screen. Obviously the guys in post are going to put something in the screen and the actor only needs to look like he knows what he's doing. Iron Man is an awesome example of post editing electronic displays. Get a good editor to match the gestures and it's seamless. So I pry off the front part of the screen that lets you see what's on it. It's a thin film that reads the the input so you're not staring at a white screen going "what the fuck?" On one of my old laptops, for shits and giggles, I took this film off the screen and cut lenses out of that film and put them in a pair of glasses. Only I could see what was on screen everyone else saw blank whiteness. Going out in public or taking it to school was a hoot. Drove my teachers crazy.

Anyway I scored the film a bit with an exact-o knife to guide the break I wanted. Dad said it had to be crap so a cracked screen was a good way to do that. I tap the corner where I scored it, working it so the crack spreads a little then I screw it back in. I wire in a few LEDs into a second side panel that has a dial then take a step back and look at my work. I turn on the tablet and it boots up just fine, though it looks like the basic operating system has been replaced with something else so it is literally an electronic read out rather than a normal tablet interface. The booting sequence isn't something I've seen before. Of course it seems to be in another language so that may be why. But it looks like some cross between Japanese and Klingon. I was never very good at foreign languages so it could be Chinese for all I know. Hell it looks like an alien language I'd find in some sci-fi show, but I work in stunts and props, not fictional languages. I shut it off and take out my phone to send my dad a picture.

"_Looks good."_ He texts me back and I pack it up. He sends me another text telling me to meet him in town as that's where they're filming at the current moment. It isn't that far into town so it shouldn't take me that long to get there. Apparently the director is excited to see my work.

Harper had stayed around while I worked on the tablet, walking around the outside of the warehouse and the surrounding area. A few times he had come inside to see how I was doing and I think it's a good idea to let him know I am leaving so he doesn't totally freak out when he finds me gone. I put the prop in the passenger seat of the Charger and try and track down Harper. I find him making his way back to the warehouse just as I come around to the front side. I wave at him and wait for him to come over.

"Hey, I've got to go on set, finished the prop dad wanted so he wants it hand delivered. Just thought I'd say bye before I left." I say as he comes to a stop in front of me. He nods slightly, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Ok, um, lemme see your phone." I look up at Harper dubiously, my eyebrow half-cocked in confusion. He just looks at me imploringly and for some reason I cannot resist his pleading brown eyes. I sigh and pull my phone out of my pocket and fork it over. Immediately he starts dialing and his phone rings for a few seconds before he ends the call. Then I see him editing my contacts, adding his number into my phone. He holds it out to me and I take it back, looking at him and fighting back a grin. It's a losing battle. I feel like I'm in high school again and am all giddy I got the cute boys number. I mentally smack myself, I'm not in high school any more. We're adults. He probably just wanted to make sure I had his number in case anything happens again. Instead of calling Troi to go hunt him down.

"Now you have my number. Call me if anything happens. I'll always answer." He holds my hand with my phone in his two, trying to emphasize his point, and the little 'I told you so' just dies as a thought. I'm slightly distracted by his hands engulfing my own. "I mean it, anything. If you need help changing a _tire_, you call me." I let out a rather unladly like snort at his suggestion but nod anyway. He releases my hand and I shove my phone back in my pocket. I know how to change a damn tire. That's baby stuff. I could probably do it one armed if I tried. Hopefully I won't have to, but hey, you never know.

"Ok, I promise," I smile as I fish out the keys to the rental. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, ok?" He waves at me as I head back around the warehouse to the Charger. I get in and feel a small rush of adrenaline knowing the kind of power this car has, even stock. It's not super charged like a police cruiser might be, but it's still damn fun to drive. I take it easy on the unpaved road from the warehouse out onto the main road and then I simply can't resist. I have to let this baby go. Granted it's an automatic so I am kept from going all out but I'm still roaring down the road. I take a corner a little too tight and I see the tablet start to slide from the seat. I let off the gas as I reach out to grab it, using my left hand to keep the wheel steady. The wheel is close to me and I grip it by the bottom, not extending my arm from my body too much as I feel a slight throb from my shoulder when I do. I almost have my hand around it, trying to focus on the road as I grope around, using my peripheral visioin but I hit a bump in the road and it jumps off the seat and it slips away from me.

"Shit," is all I can really say at this point as all my hard work goes crashing to the floor. I really should have secured that thing a bit better. The next few seconds are hard to describe, but I'm gonna try anyway. There is a very loud sound and the whole car jerks and skitters like I hit something huge and I look up to see something very unexpected. I'm not on the road. In fact...as I look around, there is no road anywhere. It looks like I'm in the middle of a dried lakebed or something. The ground is all cracked and dried out, thousands of fissures crisscrossing the ground. I'm surrounded by mountains on all sides but none of them look overly familiar.

The car seems to have turned off in the ensuing scene change so I try to get the engine to turn over. It clicks a few times but the engine never catches. Fantastic. I unbuckle myself to get to my phone. Then I pause. Who the heck do I call that's gonna believe me? I don't even believe me right now. I look at my phone to test a theory that I'm dreaming, or most likely unconscious, but I can read the screen loud and clear. No service. Fucking awesome. I reach down and pop the hood, hopefully I can get this thing running again. I open the door and get punched in the face by a wall of heat. Reeling back, I grip the steering wheel as I lever myself out of the car, hoping I can get some sort of cell service around here. Outside I look around and see rocks embedded in the dried ground. Strangest thing about this place besides me are these rocks. They have drag marks behind them, like they were moving, or racing. Wait...I've seen this before...geology class...racing rocks, or was it sailing rocks? Argh, this heat is cooking my brain already, it's like Death breathing down your neck. Death...Death...Oh. Shit. HOW THE FUCK DID I GET ALL THE WAY OUT TO DEATH VALLEY?!

"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON?!" I shout at no one. This...this is patently ridiculous. This is impossible! I was hundreds of miles away! How? Why?! Everything today has been one crazy moment after another, and I don't think I can handle any more. I am grasping at tenuous straws here on how I have ended up in Death Valley, but short of something out of a science fiction film. I have nothing. This defies all the laws of known physics. Of course this implies that there is still physics to be found, and this is highly likely, but they sure as hell aren't gonna be found by a stunt driver like me. My phone beeps at my, giving me a brief glimmer of hope. One bar...I have one bar. I hit redial and pray. I need some sort of sane in this well of insanity.

"Hi [crzzzzt] Harper. I can't [crzzzzt] but leave a [crzzzzzzt] Beeeeeeep." Straight to voicemail. So much for always answering. Shit, fuck, balls.

"Daniel! Don't ask why, cause I don't have an answer, but I'm in Death Valley and I need a pick up. I think it's the...uh...Racetrack playa. Daniel...I...I don't know what's going on. I-" There's a loud screeching from somewhere behind me, and it sounds manufactured, like something I've heard out of a mechanical bird. I turn to look and am blinded by a flash of light. A shadow passes over the sun and lets out another screech. I squint and see the shadow is shaped like a bird and have a very brief moment of deja vu. Then the ground in front of me explodes, dirt and sand flying everywhere. I run. No looking back, I just run. Then the car explodes in spectacular fashion. If I thought the heat out side was bad, it's arctic compared to the heat from the explosion. The shock wave knocks me forward and I fall flat on my face. Bits and pieces of the Charger crash down around me and I curl up into a ball, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. Peeking around to see if the car has stopped trying to kill me and feeling relatively more safe I scramble to my feet and try to run again. My path is impeded by a midget in armor. Okay...that's not really a midget in armor now that I have an actual look at it. It's a 3 foot tall robot, complete with whirring gears and servos. Damn. I must have hit my head hard. This robot looks angry, and it also looks far too complex to be so agile. And...it's arm changed into something that looks suspiciously like a gun. Shit. Well, even in my delusions everything looks and sounds real, and there's even that distinct sound of a laser charging to fire. You only ever hear it in sci-fi movies as we haven't mastered laser technology yet, but let me tell you, that high pitched whine is damned accurate sounding. Foley artists are ahead of their time.

Of course, that sound is never followed by anything good. And since the thing that made that sound is pointed at me, it's in my vested interest to not be in front when that thing fires. I pick a direction and run, feeling the dirt clods pelt my back as the spot where I was standing explodes. The thing charges and fires again and again and I try running in a zig zag pattern to make myself a harder target. Well, like I said, I try. Running at all is difficult with my arm in a sling and I have no idea where the hell I'm running to. Another screeching sound is the only warning I get before sharp searing pain tears through both my shoulders. The damn bird's talons are digging deep into my shoulders and through my already broken collar bone. I barely realize my feet aren't on the ground anymore, there's so much pain. A scream escapes my lips before I am greeted by my friend unconsciousness once again.

**(*evil cackle* Ok so this ended up longer than I expected...But, well, Lia loves to do that to me. So, hope you guys enjoyed it. It's late...I dunno what to put here. There was something about all consuming work and blah blah blah, but I'm tired. I told myself I'd finish this chapter then go to bed. At *looks at clock* four-thirty in the morning. WEELLLLL I guess it's time to hit the old dusty trail...Peace!)**


	9. Chpt 9: Being Troi Clancy

(Hey all! Yeah, I know...that was a crappy cliff hanger last time. Well, IT'S NOT GETTING ANY BETTER! MWHAHAHA. Ok that was mean. Oh well. Also...I see all you lurkers out there. Don't think I don't see you. You can't hide from me.)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the 'bots or 'cons. They belong to Hasbro. Also, I don't own Jodi or Riley. They belong to NH Moonshadow, who you should shower with praises and love. Because it's her fault I'm here. Everyone else is mine though.

Chapter 9: Where we get to go inside Troi's head for a nice change of pace.

My sister is missing. I know this, because she didn't come back to the hotel last night. She didn't even make it to the set with the prop she was building for dad. She had called to say she was heading over and never showed up. Dad didn't notice until around 3am which was when we finished filming for the night. Personally I had high hopes she was off with Daniel somewhere, doing things. Frankly that would make my life a hell of a lot easier. Watching these two dance around each other is ridiculous. My sister seriously needs someone not in the entertainment industry, and, you know, responsible. Her last two boyfriends I've wanted to throttle. But she's a grown woman, apparently that's unacceptable.

Right. Back to her being missing. I know this, simply because I asked Daniel, in as casual way as I could. He had nothing to report. Ergo, my sister is missing and I'm here at the local police station ready to report it. The circumstances are suspect and she has never done this before so I can, of course say this is a legitimate claim. I walk inside and head straight for the the front desk. The set up is rather simple. It's a long service desk, that comes up to my ribcage. It's manned by three people with several stations and enough room for two or three people to walk around back there. Two of them seem to be on phones, the other, front and center, seems to be busy with a computer. He doesn't eve look up, just slides a clip board at me as I approach. K, I'm already annoyed.

"Look, my sister is missing and I want to report it, not stare at a damn clipboard."

"She's missing?" I hear from behind me. I glare at the man behind the counter and glance at his clipboard in disgust before turning around. I find the little pipsqueak from yesterday staring up at me expectantly and slightly concerned. My lips switch from side to side as I figure out how to answer. She's not a kid, well, she is but she doesn't act it. So treating her like one is out of the question.

"Yeah, she didn't come back last night." Before I can blink she's grabbed my hand and leading me to a side door. For such a small thing she has a real kung fu grip.

"C'mon. We need to go see Riley." Jodi has her hand on the door handle before the guy at the counter interrupts our progress.

"Hey, you can't go back there." Jodi's hand freezes on the handle. She slowly turns toward the guy, annoyance written all over her face. She steps over to the desk, only her head and shoulders clearing the top. She leans in and uses two fingers to motion the guy closer.

"Are you new?" She sounds like a teacher trying to talk to a child. "Is this your first day? Where's Chuck?"

"Chuck is on vacation. You still can't go back there yet, this is a police station," He looks down at her, stone-faced. Nothing gets past this guy.

"No shit, Sherlock, thanks for stating the obvious. They must trust you with the important cases." Jodi stands on her tip toes and looks around the guy to one of the others. "Hey Mike," She calls out to the guy sitting at the bank of phones. He looks up and waves her toward the door.

"Go on in Jodi."

"But she can't just-"

"Shaddaup, that's Tanaka's kid. She's fine." I just shrug at the now frustrated front desk man, completely failing to hide my grin at his defeat. I follow after Jodi as she opens the door and I'm hit with a wall of sound. Inside everyone is busy running about. The desks are all arranged in a very utilitarian fashion, four to a unit, like a four square court. It makes walking about in a hurry easy, it seems. For such a seemingly small town, their police station seems awfully busy. (Ok, small is a relative term for me. I live in Santa Barbara, it's huge compared to this but this isn't exactly a hick town either.) Jodi still has my hand in hers, guiding me toward the back of the room and I spot Daniel talking with some guy. He's about Daniel's height, with dark red hair but it's hard to tell anything else from the back. Daniel is not in a uniform, security or otherwise so he's probably just here visiting. The other guy is definitely on the clock; gun at his hip, cuffs off to the left on the back of his belt. Jodi seems to be going straight for them though so I'm bound to find out.

"Riley!" She calls out to him and they both look over. Daniel looks a little surprised to see me, looking between me and Jodi, confusion taking a pen and writing all over his face. Jodi, of course, wastes no time in getting straight to the point as she stops in front of Riley. He's...not what I expected, to say the least. The guy at the front said Jodi was his kid, the resemblance is absolutely _uncanny!_ No, just kidding. They're nowhere near looking like each other. Also, he had to have been, I dunno, 12 when she was born? Yeah I don't think so. He's also not as tall as I first thought, standing next to Daniel, he's a little shorter. Dan's got one or two inches on him easy.

"Riley...got a case for you. Lia is apparently missing." First person I notice pounces on that news is Daniel, his confusion turning to alarm. He looks at me and I can see the cogs turning in his head, connecting the dots from our call this morning. Ah, there's the lightbulb. His face goes from alarm to serious. I can almost imagine him in a cop uniform, because that is his work face.

"So when you called asking if I had seen her, you weren't just checking around." Daniel says matter of factly. I shake my head at him, pursing my lips.

"No, she didn't even make it to the set yesterday. I was being optimistic and thinking she was with you, since none of us noticed till wrap at 3 this morning." I look over at Riley, who is quietly observing us, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seems like a smart guy, probably committing this information to memory so he doesn't have to ask redundant questions later.

"Why would she be with me?" Daniel asks and Riley lets out a little chuckle, shaking his head. I decide to drop the subject. Nice to know I'm not the only one seeing these two dance. Maybe we could commiserate later, after we find my sister and I give her hell for making me worry.

"No reason. Anyway. She wasn't at the hotel this morning when we got back and no one has seen her since yesterday."

"Since she left the staging area...Shit." Daniel runs his hands through his hair and I put my hands on his shoulders, shaking him lightly. Guilt is not an emotion we need right now.

"Hey, it's not your fault. Whatever is causing you to think it's your fault, you need to knock it off. We don't even know if she's just off somewhere else...with Jace." I grit my teeth at his name, the possibility leaving my mouth sour. I almost wish she was missing instead of with that asshole. Almost. If it was between being dead and being with Jace, I'd accept she was with him. Even though it makes my blood boil.

Daniel looks up at me, nodding, accepting my words, though both of us, I think, find them a hollow comfort. I knew Daniel didn't like Jace as a person, but I hadn't given him reason to really hate him. Not like me. That man could die in a fire for all I care. It just wasn't my story to tell.

"In fact, let's find out right now." I kick myself for not calling Jace sooner. I guess part of me was hoping she'd know better, but I had to cover all the bases. I pull out my phone and call Jace. After two rings he picks up.

"Hello?" he says distractedly.

"Have you seen Lia?"

"Huh? No. Why-" I hang up on him, not wanting to bother with him a minute longer. Daniel looks at me and I shake my head in the negative. We both frown. I look up to see Riley motion at someone across the station to come over as he guides us to his desk. I spy the nameplate "Detective Tanaka: Missing Persons". How convenient. The guy that comes over to join us is tall and lanky with the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. Everything else about him seems dull by comparison. Just his piercing blue eyes draw you in. I feel like nothing escapes the notice of that gaze.

Riley motions me to a seat while he pulls out the paperwork. I'm going to assume the guy he pulled over is his partner. He's dressed in a powder blue button up and slacks; polar opposite of Riley's jeans and V-neck. Must work together well though, they seem totally fluid. Riley hands his partner the paperwork without a word and sits on the edge of his desk.

"This is my partner, Prowl. He just needs some basic information so we can get it out as quickly as possible. Then we can get a timeline going."

"Ah sure..." I nod. Prowl is an...unusual name to be sure but it's probably a last or nick name that stuck. Far be it from me to nit pick at names. Troilus is enough of a weird name that I don't go point out others.

"Full name," Prowl started.

"Ophelia Marie Clancy."

"Age?"

"She is 22."

"Height, weight, eye and hair color?"

"5 foot 4, lord if I know, she'd punch me if I ever asked but I'd put her at about 130lbs. Blue eyes and strawberry blond hair."

"And she was last scene?"

"Ah headed into town from route 5," Daniel chimed in. "Driving a black Dodge Charger." Prowl noted that all down and I could see why Riley let Prowl do the writing. His hand writing was crisp and clean, not chicken scratch like most people I know.

Daniel's phone goes off with a sharp chime and we all look at him as he pulls it out of his pocket. There is some slight relief on his face as he unlocks the screen.

"It's a message from Ophelia. Jeeze, must have went straight to voice mail, my phone didn't even ring." He puts the phone to his ear and we all watch him with anticipation; except Prowl. He's still writing out the report. Daniel is concentrating on the message but he's frustrated. He jams a finger in his other ear so I'm guessing the message isn't coming in too clear. His brow furrows as he pulls the phone away to look at the screen. Just before he puts it back to his ear, there is such a horrible screeching even I can hear it. Prowl snaps to attention at the sound, his eyes concentrated on the phone. I see him deliberately put the pen down and his hands hover for a moment, as if he's hesitating to snatch the phone away.

"When was that message sent, Officer Harper?"

"Uh..." Daniel presses a few keys before putting the phone back to his ear. "Last night? But...why did I only get it now?"

"May I?" Prowl holds out his hand to Daniel and I catch sight of Riley watching Prowl with some amusement at the exchange. Perhaps it's odd for Prowl to ask for things. Daniel hands over the phone and right away, Prowl starts doing something to it.

"I'm sending the audio file to one of my lab techs. Perhaps they can pull something from it." I could swear I just saw his eyes glow. I seriously mean glow, like a flashlight turned on behind them if only for a moment. People's eyes just don't do that.

"Right. I have...a possible lead for you to check up on too." Daniel says, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and throws a black and white photo copy of a picture onto the desk. It takes me a minute but I recognize both Lia and Jace in the picture. Jace has Lia swept up in his arms and that alone makes me more than a little annoyed. What makes me worried is the word WHY that looks scratched into it. If one of Jace's crazy fans got my little sister, I'm going to murder him. I'm going to fucking kill him.

"What the hell is that?" I point.

"That...is why I took her seriously yesterday when she called saying there was someone in the warehouse. Look. The head of security thought it was a threat to Jace. Obviously I disagree. I told him as much. Vehemently. But he made a judgment call. So did I. I made sure no one went near the warehouse the rest of yesterday. I even checked the Charger. Several times. I was the last one to see her. Damnit. I should have gone with her. But I couldn't." Riley puts a hand on Daniel's shoulder while I snatch up the picture to look at it some more. Who got on set with a camera? How did they get past security? Where the hell is Lia? This is all too crazy. She hasn't even see that asshole in a year. Now he's got crazy bitches trying to take out perceived rivals?

"I'll kill him." I mutter. I don't realize I say anything out loud until I notice first Prowl then Jodi staring at me.

"You know who took the picture?" Prowl looks at me questioningly.

"No. Him." I jam my finger into the photocopy. Right into Jace's face. I wish it were my fist. "He's always dragging her into shit and now he's gotten her kidnapped!"

"That is certainly one area we will explore. I like to keep options open this early in the investigation. There isn't enough evidence to point in one direction or the other." Prowl stood, collating the papers he had. "I'm going to file this report. Riley why don't you coordinate with Officer Harper's security firm for more information regarding the picture. Mr. Clancy, after I come back, if you could guide me to the warehouse we can start making a timeline there."

AN: Well, how was it being inside Troi's head? Fun? Good, cause we're not done visiting.


	10. Chpt 10: Meet Jack

(Again, I'll point you all in the direction of Moonshadow's fic, Disregarded if you want to know more about Riley and Prowl and Jodi and why there's a 'Con hanging out with Autobots. You can find a link in my favorites. All good? Good. We're still in Troi's head. We like Troi. Troi isn't dense like his sister. I love Lia dearly but lots of things escape her immediate notice.)

Chapter 10: Troi gets to meet Jack and things seem just a little off.

The drive over to the warehouse is uneventful. Prowl doesn't seem to be the talkative type. I get that vibe from his partner though. Probably how they work. Riley does the talking and Prowl takes notes. Honestly though, I don't feel like talking. So it's nice. I'm too preoccupied about where Lia is to really try and make small talk. What isn't nice is the lack of music in the car. If you're not talking, at least music is a nice distraction from silence. In this car, nothing breaks the silence besides a few calls coming over the radio. Today seems to be a rather uneventful day in the town of Tranquility, if one was listening to a police scanner. It seems the hotbed of activity was an senior citizen center where a fight broke out, apparently over the last serving of pie. Damn, old people apparently take pie very seriously.

As we get closer to the warehouse, Prowl sits up, scanning the area and slowing the car to a crawl.

"Where did you have the Charger parked?" he asks, his gaze narrowing on the warehouse.

"Ah, around the back," I point and Prowl nods and pulls his car up in front of the warehouse. He keeps staring intently at it, like he's expecting something to happen. We get out and he heads for the door rather determined. I'm not too familiar with protocol for this sort of thing so I stay silent and follow along. He looks like he's onto something even though we just got here.

"So there was someone in the warehouse yesterday?" he asks, peering inside. I nod at him remembering my sisters frantic call. Now I wish I hadn't laughed at her. "You should call the director or whoever is in charge. We have to impound all the working vehicles. We don't know if they might have been tampered with."

I pale at the thought as he heads inside, walking slowly around the 3 working Teslas, inspecting every inch. Doing what he said would stop production. Stopping production costs money. The producers would not be happy about this. Of course without my father and I I doubt the movie would move too much farther forward. Shit. Dad. I haven't told him yet. He's already on set, that is going to be a sucky phone call all around.

I go to pull out my phone when I see Prowl take off to the far end of the warehouse. He ducks behind the last car and I hear a small scuffle going on. I take a few steps over to investigate, wondering if I should help or not. Prowl seems like he can more than hold his own but all the same, I feel obligated. That's when Prowl pops up holding a skinny man by the back of the shirt, looking more than a little angry. He starts dragging the guy over, talking in hushed tones. I can hear the hard edge in Prowl's voice from here and the other guy seems to be very apologetic, everything about his posture is submissive.

"I'm sorry, I am. I got carried away!" The smaller man said as Prowl dragged him closer.

"Well you should have checked in when you landed. Ratchet is going to have your hide." At first, I am a little concerned. I do not recognize this man. He is not someone I've ever seen on set but Prowl seems to know him. He looks over at me pleadingly, searching for any type of help. I put my hands up and shake my head. Prowl is not someone I think I want to get on the bad side of. But the question still lingers, who is this guy?

"Mr. Clancy, this is a colleague of mine. We'll call him Jack for now. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help us find your sister." Jack twists in Prowl's grasp to stare at him, wide eyed and confused. Prowl just gives him a hard stare. There is an underlying conversation going on there that I'm not privy to but after a moment, Prowl loosens his grip and brakes off the stare, looking at me instead. Jack seems to be more than a little concerned but it is...off. I can't put my finger on why but it just seems weird. I shake it off and look back at Prowl.

"If you could make the necessary phone calls, while I do so as well, we can get the cars inspected and back here as soon as we can." I nod and grab my phone stepping away to first call Dad and then call the producers. Neither of these phone calls are going to be easy. My dad has always worried about Lia, mainly because her track record with people is not very clean. But this is a whole new level. My sister has never gone missing before. Gotten into situations that I had to get her out of, yes. But never missing.

As expected, an hour later, my father has pretty much stopped production on his own. I didn't even have to call the producer as he was standing next to my dad when I called. My ears are still ringing from _that_ particular conversation. The man has a good set of lungs. I'm fairly sure he broke more than a few speed limits to get over here in time to yell at Prowl just as the tow trucks began to roll in. At least three big flatbeds, all from different companies it seemed. Small town with at this many different tow companies? Must make a killing on the interstate. I watch as Prowl deals with the producer rather easily as the last tow truck arrives. Grapple Tow Service it says on the side of the door. I see Prowl break away and direct the driver of that truck toward the stunt car first, then the others. I catch sight of the producer who's rather bright red from all the yelling. He's quiet now but I can tell he's still seething. I should tell him something like this might be good publicity, but I don't think that's something he wants to hear right now. What's that phrase? Oh yes, any publicity is good publicity. I don't believe he's thinking about that right now at all. Prowl takes one more look around before walking back over to me. I stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling more that a little anxious. We should be looking for my sister, but instead we're here impounding cars. I just have to remind myself that it's early, we need leads, a direction on where to look.

"We're going to escort the vehicles back to the station now. Do you want to stay here or come with me?"

"I'll come with you. Beats standing around here." Prowl nods and heads back to his car and I shuffle along after. Jack is sitting in the back, glancing around at all the commotion. He seems to take particular interest in the stunt car that was placed on the Grapple Tow truck, his gaze going back to it every time. I get into the passenger side and can feel his leg bouncing like a jack rabbit through the floorboards. As soon as Prowl opens the door, Jack leans forward.

"Ah, Prowl. I left something in the trunk. I'm gonna need it if we're going anywhere." I turn in my seat to look at him suspiciously but Prowl just shakes his head.

"Fine, Jack. Wait here." He closes the door and jogs over to the flatbed and rummages around in the trunk of the Tesla, what little there is of it that's not taken up by a lithium ion battery. While Prowl is digging around for whatever it is this Jack can't live without, I decide to strike up a conversation.

"So, how are you going to help find Lia?"

"Well, um, I deal with the more technical aspects of things. Whatever Prowl needs me to do, I do."

"And how do you know Prowl? You don't seem like a cop."

"He's not," Prowl says as he gets into the driver's side. I didn't even hear him open the door. He opens the back door and hands Jack a rather large watch which Jack takes rather quickly, putting it on and pressing a few buttons before sitting back in his seat. Whatever that watch is, it seemed to calm him down some.

"I have colleagues in places other than the department. I liaise for a few different agencies when the need arises. Now buckle up, we're moving out." The car ride is quiet again on the way back. But this is not a comfortable quiet like before. No, there is something I'm not getting that seems to be going on around me. Prowl is driving a little more tense than before, his jaw set, his mouth in a frown. Obviously he is unhappy with Jack, but that was clear from the get go. It feels like there is more silent conversations going on, the way Prowl keeps looking into the rear view mirror and Jack keeps shifting nervously, keeping his eyes on the tow truck in front of us.

Half way back to town, Prowl gets a call. He taps his fingers on the wheel for a moment, contemplating something before we see another cruiser pull up next to us. The window rolls down and Riley waves once from the drivers side. Prowl nods and lets Riley drive ahead of us while we turn off toward another part of town. Prowl keeps an eye on Jack for the first few moments, as if he's afraid he will just disappear.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I had someone follow the most likely route your sister would take into town to see if they noticed anything. Apparently they have." I'm filled with both dread and joy. Prowl is very good at keeping a straight face, which makes it very hard to read. So I have no idea what this person has found and if it's good or bad. But any news is good news right? Now my leg is bouncing like a jack rabbit as we drive farther into town.

A few minutes later (though they felt like hours), I see a black mustang parked on the side of the road and two rather familiar looking people leaning against it, waiting for us.

"Prowl! That's-" Prowl puts his hand up and effectively silences Jack. Curious.

"I know who it is Jack. If you had reported in like you were supposed to, you would know by now. As it stands, your debriefing will be rather lengthy." Prowl pulls the car over and gets out. I make to get out but he shakes his head. "Give me a minute. I promise to tell you what I learn."

I sit back down, none too happily as Prowl walks over. Jack is in the back seat mumbling to himself about cons and foolishness but I only catch about half of what he's saying. I see Jodi heading toward me as Prowl and the other guy talk. I'm wracking my brain for his name and it hits me just as Jodi reaches my door. Cade. She called him Cade. Well he is pointing at points on the ground while Prowl stands there, arms crossed, listening to him intently. The way they move around each other, there's a familiarity there, like they've known each other all their lives.

Jodi opens my door and pokes her head in, giving me a halfhearted smile. So the news can't be all bad if she's smiling. I turn in my seat to look at her.

"Tell me something Jodi."

"Shoot."

"Are they brothers?" Jodi blinks at me for a moment then looks back over at Prowl and Cade, leaning on the open door.

"How could you tell?"

"Experience." We both just watch them talk for a moment before Prowl kneels down to look at something, Cade watching him intently as he does so. They must have found something they way Prowl is staring at the ground. He straightens up and walks around in a circle. I lean forward before getting out of the car. I think I've waited long enough.

"Wait, Troi, just give him a minute." Jodi puts her hand on my arm as I start to walk toward them.

"What did they find?" I look down at her.

"Just give him a minute and Prowl will tell you."

"Jodi, my sister is missing! What did they find?!"

"Where she disappeared!" I halt in my tracks and look down at her confused and worried. How does a person just disappear? Prowl suddenly appears next to us, reaching for the back door and pulling Jack out.

"Mr. Clancy,-" Prowl starts.

"Is my father. I'm Troi."

"Fine, Troi. I told you, when I know something, you will know. I understand your need to find your sister. But you are going to have to give us a minute to sort out the facts so I may give them to you in a coherent manner." I nod and he drags Jack back toward the area he had been inspecting. Jack slides away from Cade as they get close, choosing to stand on the other side of Prowl as they talk. What follows is a rather intense looking conversation, with lots of finger pointing and Prowl and Cade looking at Jack annoyed. Oh yes. Those two are definitely related.

Jack throws his hands up and starts walking back to the Charger, shaking his head. It seems it's time to head back to the station. Prowl follows Jack and they continue to have a conversation on the walk over.

"-ignature all over it, WheelJack. You're going to tell Optimus what it was you made and what happened to it and why she had it. On top of your debriefing."

"Prooowl," Jack whines a little. Prowl just points at the back seat, having none of it. Jack gets in, grumbling the whole time. Jodi pats my arm and as I look back down at her she gives me a reassuring grin.

"Hey, if anyone is gonna find your sister, it's Prowl. Hey, have you had anything to eat? I'm fairly sure Riley has forgotten to eat yet again. Why don't we go get lunch for them and let them work. You heard Prowl, he will tell you when he knows something. And he will. Until then, let's go get you food." Why is it people always insist on feeding you when something bad has happened? If someone dies, people bring over casseroles and any sort of food they can think of. You're swimming in food after a few days. Of course, now that I think about it, I don't think I ate breakfast this morning. I simply headed straight to the station.

"Yeah alright..." I close the passenger side door and follow Jodi back to the black mustang. I let out a small chuckle as we get close. "Lia would love this car."

"It _is_ a nice car," Jodi beamed at Cade before sliding into the front passenger side. Cade just shakes his head and gets into the driver's side as I climb into the back. If someone had told me how long this day was gonna be this morning, I never would have gotten out of bed.

**A/N: Merry Christmas! To those of you who celebrate it. Happy Holidays to everyone else! Here's a gift! Thought I'd better get off my ass and update for you. This time I'm not making any promises for when the next chapter is coming because that always backfires. But it _is_ coming. So, I think next chapter will be the last we see of Troi's thoughts. But we'll see how that goes. Anyway! Hope you enjoyed it!**


	11. Chpt 11: Troi smash!

Chapter 11: Where we learn why we don't piss off a fight coordinator

Today is not a good day. Yesterday wasn't awesome, but today is worse. I got shit for sleep, tossing and turning until five in the fucking morning where I gave up. Lia is still missing and the first, most important forty eight hours are dwindling away. After that it becomes harder to find a missing person. I've been up for a few hours now, just wandering around, half formed ideas rattling around in my brain. Daniel didn't go back to the CHP yesterday, he's working with his cousin trying to find Lia. Apparently they were very understanding over there, though personally I think they just want someone here to feed them updates. My sister does make quite an impression everywhere she goes.

But I just can't shake the feeling there is something going on here under the surface that I'm not getting. I am at the station and I have been here all morning, asking about Prowl. Some people were not forthcoming with answers, but others are, after I explain that he's working my sister's case and I'm worried hers will get lost amongst the shuffle. They tell me things. They tell me he has the highest chance of finding my sister. They tell me he's the best; so good in fact, the FBI use him for high profile cases. That must be where he knows Jack from, because no one here knows Jack. What I can't figure out is how Jack knows Cade, other than through Prowl. But the tension and clear aversion Jack had for Cade yesterday felt like something more.

Some of them call Prowl "Ice Man" and crack a few Top Gun jokes. They don't knock his results though. Those apparently speak for themselves. But we have stalled. We're in a free fall. We aren't getting anywhere on Lia's case. At least that they'll tell me. As I said. This day is not a good day. Prowl is at his desk, poring over reports and I can see where they came up with the nickname Ice Man. He's silent, impassive, almost methodical or mechanical the way he is just sitting there, disseminating information. Jodi magically appears to drag me away, almost as if she knew I was here, but there was no one here that could have told her. Riley is out with Daniel canvassing the neighborhood where Lia disappeared, something I felt I should be helping with. Riley said something about a badge opening more doors in this town than a pretty face, patted me on the shoulder and left. Yeah, he's really one to talk.

All production has stopped, which of course has some people grumbling as they know nothing of what happened except that the cars have been confiscated. Rumors on a movie set spread like wildfire though and I get several calls from some of the other stunt people telling me the latest one. I tell them all the real reason and they immediately stop grumbling. Fielding calls from "concerned" members of our crew take up the rest of my day before my phone finally dies. Like I said. Today fucking sucks. I feel utterly useless just sitting around as the police do all the work. She's my sister, I want to help find her. Instead I find a bar and drown my sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of tequila. I may hate my headache in the morning, but it helps numb my anxiety. At some point, I must have called someone to pick me up because I have a semi-lucid moment in the passenger seat of Lia's car.

"Oi...Lia, you're supposed to take the tequila bottle away from me, not lemme drink the whole thing..."

"Had I known you'd find a bar and drink all their tequila, I would have warned them in advance." My head acts like it's on a swivel, momentarily confused as to why Daniel is driving Lia's car. I look at him, confused for a moment, blinking slowly as the world tumbles and spins and my visions swims. Why is he driving my sister's car? Where's...oh...right. Fuck.

I must have handed him the keys.

"Where's your car?" I slur, trying to keep my mind off my sister. But it's her car, so little reminders are everywhere. It smells distinctly of her. And I hate being one of those melancholy drunks. Damnit.

"At Riley's. He dropped me off on the way into the station. He and Prowl are pulling an all nighter. There is apparently some information that came in they need to go over. Riley looked hopeful." Daniel says as he pulls into the hotel parking lot. He parks her little Fiesta like a champ, though I'm sure she'll bitch about him moving the seat. She's very particular about seat placement in her cars. Seriously. She busts out a measuring tape and everything.

He tells me to wait there as he runs around the other side to help me up. I try and wave him off, thinking I don't need help. I'm a big boy. Until I stumble out of the car and hold onto the side of it like Velcro. I inch along the side, heading toward the back, possessed by something to get into her hatchback. She always takes it with her on long shoots, even if she doesn't bring it inside, it's in her damn car. I slide my hand toward the latch and pull. It stays shut. I pull harder. It still stays shut. I slap the window and shout at it to open, cursing the stupid hatchback into oblivion. The car beeps in response and the lights flash for a second and I just stare at the back of the Fiesta. Did it hear me? I try the latch again and the door comes up. Holy fuck the car heard me. I turn and point at the car triumphantly, grinning at Daniel. He just stands there, holding Lia's keys in his hand, looking nonplussed. He pushes down on one of the buttons and the car beeps again and he shakes his head.

I start digging around in the mess that Lia calls her car before my hand finds something soft and familiar. My fingers close around it and pull out a teddy bear. It was, at one point in it's long life, white, but now it's more of a beige. I shake it slightly and hear the distinct tinkle of a small bell hidden in the bear's stomach. My sister's bear. Better keep it close, she's going to want it when she gets back.

I wake up the next morning with a severe pounding in my head. No. Wait...that's the door. I squeeze my eyes shut and curse whoever invented tequila as I roll off the bed. My sister's bear is still clutched under one of my arms as I plod over to the door. What time is it even? Whatever time it is, it's too fucking early. I throw the door open and lean on the door frame with an angry scowl. Daniel just looks up at me then shoves me inside.

"C'mon. We gotta go. Get dressed. They found your sister." It takes me a few moments to process what he's saying. My head is pounding too loudly in my ears to hear anything right away.

"What?"

"They found Lia. Get dressed, we're meeting them at the hospital." Daniel throws a shirt and socks at me as I have apparently slept in my jeans but somehow managed to get my shirt off. I throw the thing over my head in record time and then grab the socks and stuff my feet into some trainers, not bothering with tying the laces. I just shove them into the shoe. I start to follow Daniel out the door when I stop and go back, grabbing Lia's bear off the bed. Then I race after him down the hall to the elevator bay. Jesus Christ, they found my sister. What sort of hell was she in that she has to go to the hospital? That thought haunts me as I get into Daniel's Explorer.

"Before you ask, Jodi came and got me last night after I made sure you weren't going to die in your sleep. It was a chore and a half getting you to drink any water. Speaking of," Daniel said as he pulled out onto the road. He reached behind him and tossed me a bottle of water. "Drink up, tequila boy."

I down the water on the ride over, and we get there at the same time the ambulance does. How do I know this? I can hear Riley yelling at someone as it pulls up to the emergency entrance. Man, that is the ugliest ambulance I have ever seen. Some garish yellow that hurts my eyes. Search and rescue ambulances are strange things.

The back door flies open and I can hear Riley clearly now. "-atchet she's waking up! She has to have a fast metabolism or something! Give her more!"

That's when Lia starts yelling; screaming really. It sounds like incoherent babble and I catch only every third or fourth word. Something about giant robots, aliens, something. I catch a glimpse of her as they start pulling out the gurney and they have her strapped down, but she's starting to struggle. Whatever happened to her, it was bad. Jace is now permanently on the top of my shit list. I don't think I can work with him ever again.

As they wheel her in, she catches sight of me and just starts shouting for me.

"Troi! Troi! Don't let them get me! Don't let them take me again! They were gonna kill me! TROI!" I jog to keep up with the gurney, my heart hurting to see Lia like this. She cracked. She had to have just looking at her. She looks in bad shape and I don't even know what they did to her. I can see that they've splinted her leg and bandaged her arm. She's covered in bruises and long, jagged cuts and her clothing is in tatters. Slipping my hand into hers, I keep up with the gurney, trying to reassure her that she's safe now. Once she realizes it's my hand she's holding, Lia puts it in a death grip. I wince but I don't say anything. The sedatives must be kicking in because she's stopped shouting, mostly she's just asking for me, telling me not to let them get her. Whoever "they" are, they are in for a world of hurt once I get my hands on them.

The ER doctors let me go with her into the triage unit, mainly because even in her sedated state, she won't let go of my hand. So I get to watch them work, assessing the damage, listing her injuries as they go, like a grocery list. I hear the word surgery tossed around and they seem to be prepping her for it. Christ. I tune them out after a moment and just focus on my little sister, still mumbling to herself. Her grip loosens on my hand and the doctors wheel her away, telling me it was best if I stay here. So I'm left standing in the triage room, Lia's bear dangling by one arm from my hand, just staring at the swinging doors they took her through.

Daniel comes and gets me, leading me to the waiting room where Dad is already sitting. Over the next few hours people filter in, mostly cast and crew from the film set. My phone goes off so many times I simply ignore it after awhile. Sometime later a doctor wanders in, still in a blue smock from surgery. Dad and I stand up as he comes in, anxious.

"Mr. Clancy?" Both my dad and I answer and the doctor looks momentarily confused.

"Brother, father." Dad motions to me and then himself. The doctor nods and comes over.

"She's out of surgery, it went well. No complications. We had to fix her femur with an intramedullary rod. Luckily it was a clean break and didn't require too many pins to secure the fracture. We had to fix her clavicle as well as it was severely displaced. That also required a rod and pins to properly align it."

"Oh great, now she's got a matching pair." I groan, running my hand over my face. Then I let out a little chuckle, which turns into full blown laugh after a moment. I must be delirious, laughing at a time like this, but I can't help it. I guess I'm relieved she's even alive. I sober up after a moment, realizing that her collarbone was already broken when she disappeared, and it must have been horrifying to have it broken again. On purpose.

I clear my throat and look down as the doctor continues.

"We've casted her left wrist and her entire left leg as not only was the femur broken but the tibia as well. Also she received around 75 stitches for various deep cuts. We're going to keep her under observation because her head contusions give us a small amount of concern. More than likely it's nothing, but better safe than sorry at this point."

"When can we go in and see her?" I ask eagerly.

"Well, family can go in a few minutes. I'll have nurses take you to her room. After that, friends can come in one at a time for about ten minutes each. She'll probably still be asleep though, so short visits are probably best. If you have any other questions, I'll be back in about an hour, I have another surgery to attend. She's in good hands, Mr. Clancy. Ophelia is going to be just fine." After that the doctor left and the whole room felt lighter. We all seemed to have let out a collective breath at realizing she was both alive and safe.

After a few hours I convince Dad to go back to the hotel, call mom, maybe even get some sleep. I park my ass in a chair and stare at my sister in the hospital bed. Her leg is propped up, suspended by a small sling attached to a pole. They've taken out the tube in her throat and she's breathing on her own. She hasn't woken up from the sedation in all this time, and before the doctor left I asked him about it. He said it was probably psychological more than physical, given what she had been through. So I stand guard, waiting for her to wake up. I clutch her teddy bear to me and hunker down, ready for a long night. Just as I'm starting to drift off, I hear a sound I haven't heard in years. It's mainly due to the fact my sister and I haven't shared a room in years but I know that sound. My eyes snap open. It's soft, most people would miss it, it sounds like a sigh. But I know what follows that sound. A shuttering breath, perhaps a scream, always tears. Lia is having a nightmare.

I get up out of the chair and wander over to her bedside and brush her hair back from her face. I've seen my sister in the hospital numerous times, laid up in bed with the flu, chickenpox, a broken heart. But I've never seen her this broken.

Her hand grips the sheet and her brow furrows as she lets out a more distressed sigh. Quickly I give her her bear, tucking it under her broken wrist and she holds tight as soon as it's in her possession. After a few more moments, she's calm but I stand there and watch her anyway, holding her free hand for a moment as she settles back into a more restful sleep. I want her to wake up, obviously. I just don't want her to wake up screaming.

Something wakes me up later, but sleeping in this chair makes it easy. I'm too tall to be comfortable in these stupid hospital chairs. I crack my eyes open and see it's the door opening that woke me up. The hand I the door handle I can see is male, but it's way too manicured to be Daniel's and too young to be Dad's. That puts me on alert and I straighten up in the chair. A sandy blond head peeks in and I involuntarily growl.

"Shit," Jace spits out.

"You're damn right 'shit.' Get out." I say, getting to my feet. There is no way he is taking another step toward my sister.

"Look, hey I just wanted to-"

"I really don't care, Jace. You're too little too late on this one. You have some real balls showing up here." I stand in the doorway, blocking his path and I see he's holding a vase of flowers. Flowers?! My blood boils. I have wanted to lay this guy out for a very long time and I suddenly get handed a chance. Unfortunately, we are in the middle of production. I lay one finger on him, I not only get assault charges, I get blacklisted at the very most. Not really willing to take that chance. He doesn't need to know that though. I step forward, leaning an arm on the door frame. This forces him to take a step back, but he doesn't back down. The nerve.

"Flowers are not going to win you any points, Jason. You are not allowed to see my sister." I try and keep my face impassive, but my voice betrays my anger. This is why I don't act, I'm rubbish at pretending.

"Since when?" I've got 20 lbs on him and he's got the nerve to ask me that.

"SINCE YOU RAN AWAY THE LAST TIME SHE WAS LAID UP IN A HOSPITAL! SINCE THIS IS YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT! SINCE YOU STILL THINK YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING RIGHT TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR HER AT ALL!" I roar at him. Oh, now he shrinks back, out into the hallway, but he's still glaring at me. I glare back at him. This would be easier if he was shorter, than I could tower over him. Fact is I have to look into his face dead on because this bastard is just as tall as I am. Makes him a prime candidate for a head butt though.

"I was in Aruba when-"

"Don't give me that bullshit. I know exactly where you were and it sure as hell wasn't Aruba." Invading his personal space an intimidation tactic I use quite frequently when setting up fight choreography. Each fight needs to tell a story and intimidation is usually the first paragraph.

"Are you seriously still blaming me for her crash?" Oh? Is that my fist sailing through the air? Toward Jace's face? I hadn't noticed. Well, not until someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back in a vise. They lock their hands together behind my back, limiting my mobility. Standard police force tactic."Daniel, let go." I grind out.

"Nope, sorry. As much as you seem to want to, I can't let you rearrange his face. Mr. Cunningham I suggest you leave. Now. I don't know how long I can hold him." Well that's an outright lie if I've ever heard one. He's got me pretty well locked down, as long as I don't kick at him. I don't usually kick my friends but I put up a struggle for show and Jace beats a hasty retreat and Daniel lets me go. I roll my shoulders and turn around to face the CHP man. Behind him I see a discarded bouquet of flowers on the floor and I suddenly feel guilty. As he goes over and picks them up, inspecting them. Those were for Lia. The display that Jace had was bigger, but it's trash next to this.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you drop those."

"No harm done. They're only flowers. You okay?" He asks me as he walks into the room, moving the water jug aside to place the flowers. I'm slightly baffled by the question. Am I okay? Not really. My sister notwithstanding, her ex boyfriend is not the person I want to see. Ever.

"I'm...managing." I reply.

"Yeah...I can see that. I could hear you bellowing down by reception."

I groan as I slide back into the world's most uncomfortable chair, throwing my head back.

"That guy, is the worst example of a human being. Ever."

"I dunno. I've seem some pretty bad things. Some pretty bad people." He says as he comes to stand next to me, leaning back against the wall.

"Yeah, alright. He's still an asshole I want to pound into the ground. We have time. I can tell you the whole sad story as I know it."

"I dunno...shouldn't that be up to Lia?"

"That's why it's as I know it. Some things I had to piece together myself because she doesn't remember."

"She doesn't remember?" Daniel asks, crossing his arms and peering over at my sister's sleeping form.

"Yeah. Head trauma will do that." I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as turn my head to look up at him. He's so curious, I can tell, but his common decency won't let him ask. He likes my sister well enough, even if he isn't too sure himself. Might as well let him know what he's getting himself into.

"Well obviously you know how the story started. Boy meets girl, blah blah blah. Now this next part, you do not tell her. You are sworn to secrecy lest you be suspected of being 'persuaded' to believe the worst in Jace. Whether it's the truth or not. Hint; it's as close to the truth as I can get. I mean it, you keep this to yourself. You are being sworn into a secret brotherhood here." I point at him seriously.

"Is there a secret handshake?" He grins. A handshake. Huh. Never thought of that. Whatever, I'll go over it with dad and we can all come up with one later.

"No, not yet. There are only two members, you're going to be the third. Now. This is totally in line with Jace's personality, but Lia had just gotten off a shoot. Stunt went perfectly so she had some extra time. Figured she'd go home. I saw her off and went back to my own apartment. About an hour later I get a call, she's a mess, she says she's coming over, she can't be at her apartment anymore. I try and get her to calm down and tell me what's wrong but I can hear the ding of her car door as it's open and she says she's got to go. That she'll see me in 10." I take a moment, gathering my thoughts, trying to steady my voice.

"Do you know how horrifying it is to be waiting for someone, each minute you get more anxious when they don't show? I had the news on the background and I kept glancing at the door. By chance I look over at the TV just as they're doing the traffic report. They catch the whole thing on live TV.

"You ever see a car crash, Daniel? Of course you have. Think of a car going head long into a divider at roughly 60 mph. It smashes the front end then flips a few times, pieces of debris being flung off by centripetal force. I got to watch all of that, knowing she was inside." The look of of horror on his face pretty much mirrors my own back then. I thought I had just watched my sister die. I was understandably distraught.

"So when he said you blame him for her crash, that's what you mean?" I nod, sitting back, suddenly exhausted.

"Near as I can figure, she found him in their apartment with another girl, or two, knowing him. Several times I remember her complaining that he wanted to add a third person to their two person party. I know, I just know that's what she found him doing because he scampered off to Aruba and I nearly hopped on a plane just to kick his ass. One phone call was all she got from him. One. And he played it off like he had been there on a shoot the whole time, once he found out she couldn't remember the three days leading up to the crash. It's like her head doesn't work around the guy. When she started dating him, I didn't say anything. She's an adult, she can make her own mistakes. Now I wish I had. Everyday I wish I had said something."

"You can't blame yourself, Troi. You can't carry around that much guilt. You said it yourself, she's an adult. At least she's alive.

I nod, trying to let those words sink in for the thousandth time. Nope. Still not happening, even one someone else tells me. So I decide to change the subject.

"Daniel, do you like my sister?"

"I...well...she's a nice girl."

"No you idiot, what are your intentions toward my sister? Do you like like her?"

"Uhhhhh" Daniel is suddenly looking anywhere but at me or Lia and I grin.

"I'm not gonna give you the third degree here. I'm trying to steer you in the right direction." I tap my thumbs together and look expectantly up at him. Daniel just uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I guess...I do care about her."

"Okay," I nod, encouraged. "Good. You have to be blunt with her. Up front. My sister is dumb."

"Uh, vast evidence to the contrary."

"She's people dumb," I roll my eyes. "See, Einstein describes insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I think that's why she keeps going back to Jace. She knows exactly what she's getting there, even if she tries to convince herself it's gonna be different this time. My sister does not do subtle. You got her all confused with that sandwich trick."

Daniel looks at me blankly, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "Sandwich...trick?"

"You recreated her damn sandwich when you could have just thrown some turkey between two slices and called it a day."

"...oh"

"Yeah 'oh'." I chuckle before a beeping catches my attention. Its a faster beep than the one that's been droning on in the background this whole time. I pop up and look over at Lia to see her stirring. I walk over and grab her hand, reflexively she grabs back. Slowly her eyes open and she smiles when she sees me. I smile back automatically. I can see it takes her awhile to get her barrings as she slowly looks around, taking in her surroundings.

"Wha..." she coughs and goes to rub her throat, only to be reminded about her broken collarbone and to see it has a few new friends. She stares at the cast on her wrist in confusion before looking back up at me. Shit.

"You don't remember what happened, do you?" She shakes her head at me as I pour her some water. Well this is just fan-fucking-tastic. She looks over at Daniel after she drinks a few small sips. The look on her face is not good, in fact it almost looks like -

"Who're-" Confusion. I sigh, the sinking feeling in my stomach getting deeper as she coughs, trying to find her voice. She points at Daniel questioningly and I don't even have to look over to know he's trying his best to hide the small punch in the gut her amnesia is giving him. It must be bad if she can't remember him. Must be more than three days missing out of her noggin. This Sucks. With a capital 'S'.

"Oh...I'm just...Troi's friend." He smiles. I can see right through it though. He's not sure what to do here.

"Hey, why don't you go call Bob and let him know she woke up?" Daniel looks at me, grateful for the excuse to leave, pulling his phone out as he heads out the door. Lia squeezes my hand and I look back down at her, forgetting Daniel for the moment. Whatever my baby sister wants, I'll get.

"Troi...what happened?"


	12. Chpt 12: Waking Up Is Hard To Do

Chpt 12: Waking Up Is Hard To Do

**WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE LAST CHAPTER BEFORE JULY 11TH, 2015, GO BACK AND READ THE LAST FEW PARAGRAPHS AS THINGS HAVE CHANGED SLIGHTLY.**

Waking up in a hospital is always a disorienting experience. Having done it more than my fair share, I can tell you, it's different every time. You wake up confused, your mind scrambling for an explanation as to the strange surroundings. Then it all rushes back to you. Well, what rushed back to me was slamming into a divider on the freeway because I didn't see the brake lights ahead of me in time. Troi asks me the obvious question, do I remember what happened. Oh I remember. But it takes awhile for me to get my voice back. Intubation tubes tend to leave a throat raw and very sore. I'm stuck eating ice chips for half an hour while the doctors come in and run a few tests now that I'm awake. It's just standard stuff, pupil reactions, blood pressure checks, cognitive function tests. They schedule a few more for later in the day like a CT scan before leaving me with just Troi and the other guy, Bob's friend he said he was. He'd come back in somewhere around the cognitive tests, just sitting in the corner at the far end of the room, watching quietly. Troi joins him after the doctor makes him get out of the way.

My brother stalks over, pulling up a chair next to the bed. I grab the glass of ice chips and wet my parched throat and begin to tell Troi what happened after the doctors leave.

"I went back to my apartment and Jace was waiting there. He was already slightly smashed when I got home and he said he'd invited over a friend. Then he thrust the bottle in my hand and wanted me to join him in getting drunk. Said it would help. And...and..." Just trust me, Lia. I wince, Jace's voice ringing in my ears, the memory coursing through my mind. I stop, and look up at my brother, shame rushing through me. I quickly look down at my hands and start pulling at my fingers. There are just some things I can't share, even with him.

"And what? Lia you were pretty distraught on the phone. Did he do something?"

"Troi, What're you-" The guy behind him started in but Troi waved him off, looking at me imploringly. I can see his jaw twitching though, I can tell that he's angry. Just not with me.

"I-look, Troi, I don't want to talk about it. Ok?" I look away, getting a nice view of the wall.

"Lia..." there's a small angry timbre in his voice that makes me grit my teeth.

"No. Troi. I just woke up from a car accident. I don't...Just...just leave it alone." I spit out.

"I have left it alone for a year! Lia c'mon I know that asshole did something, just tell me!" I turn around to glare at him just in time to see his friend drag him outside and shut the door. I watch them through the observation window as they talk, with lots of hair pulling and frustrated hand gesturing and Troi finally resting his head in one of his hands and heaving a massive, shoulder sagging sigh. His friend walks back in alone and gives me a small smile as he comes to stand next to my bed.

"Ophelia, how old are you?" I look at him oddly. Firstly, because he called me Ophelia, and secondly his question was very odd.

"I'm 21, I just had a birthday. Why? And...who are you?" I see him visibly flinch and frown, collecting his thoughts.

"And what did my brother mean he 'left it alone for a year'? Oh god have I been in a coma for a year?!"

"What? No...no...You were in another accident. The accident you remember happened a year ago." I just stare at him flatly, not really comprehending what he is trying to tell me. My mind was still wrapping around the fact I got into another accident. The last was so traumatic. I remember the sounds of rending metal, shattering glass, and I'm pretty sure I was screaming.

"Ophelia, you were in another accident, and it probably scrambled your head a bit."

A bit? I'm missing a whole year! I'd say my head is scrambled, fried and mashed. I frown, worrying at my forehead. I can feel the headache starting to form already, stabbing at the back of my eyes as I try and think just what the hell happened. A warm hand finds mine and I look over at Troi's friend warily. He seems nice, and his hand is soft but strong and it is comforting, but I don't know who this guy is. He's cute, in a guy-I'd-steal-test-answers-from sort of way. He looks just a touch sad though as he pulls his hand back, patting my arm instead.

"Hey, you'll be fine. I'm sure it's only temporary. Just don't try and force it, let it come back to you in it's own time. You've been through a lot and it's probably better you don't remember it all right away. Give your body time to heal first, eh? And don't worry about Troi, he's just worried about you." He gives me a half hearted smile and turns back toward the door. I want to call him back in, some part of me feeling familiar with him, but I can't, for the life of me, remember his name. So I just watch him head outside, Troi looking at me through the observation window. I stick my tongue out at him as he walks away, shaking his head. I feel like I want to get out of this hospital now, but looking down at my arm and leg, I don't think that will be any time soon.

What followed next has left me with a severe case of cabin fever because I've been in this hospital for over a week. I was informed that accident was over a year ago and I've since landed my ass back in a hospital. They've moved me from intensive care so now I have a roommate and we're separated by a curtain. He looks older than he probably is, late 40s maybe, and is cranky and likes to throw his bedpan sometimes late at night. I see him though, sometimes watching all the people that come in and visit me and I think he's just lonely.

They are keeping me here because this kind of memory loss has happened to me before, though for not nearly as big a time span. Slowly over the week though, things start coming back, I start remembering people. The cops keep coming in, seeing if I've remembered anything else. Troi says I was kidnapped and more than likely tortured. That, I think, is more than likely the source of my memory loss.

When the cops come in, they keep showing me photos of a crime scene. Supposedly, it's where they found me, but every time I look at them, they look off. Too perfect. Almost staged. I've worked in production long enough to spot a few things of a staged scene. I've started to get annoyed with all their questions and I grumble every time I see them coming.

They've brought new pictures this time, and it still looks like the same dingy cellar from last time, and this one had pretty much the same details. No windows, support pillars placed evenly throughout the room and a concrete floor. There are shackles, not handcuffs, full on metal shackles bolted to the floor by small lengths of chain. They were in the last set of pictures too. I look back at the two detectives who had been coming into my room for the past few days. The taller one stands at the end of my bed, his too-blue eyes watching me passively as I look through the photos. His partner is some mix of Asian and Caucasian and somewhere in the back of my head I feel like I've seen him before, but I have no idea where. He's not hard on the eyes either and he's sprawled all over the chair next to my bed. I've seen Troi sprawled over that thing all gangly arms and a leg thrown over the armrest, somehow the cop makes it look comfortable.

I let out a frustrated groan and toss the pictures on my bed. "These aren't it. This can't be where I was held. There's no bruising on my wrists or my ankles from what I can see. I have a shit ton of bruises yes, but nothing from restraints. You guys keep giving me set pieces! How's about you do your job and find the people who did this, not pick at my brain which is yielding no information. If this is where you found me, why do I keep seeing the pictures? What do you want? Are you trying to make me think I was somewhere I wasn't?!"

The cop at the end of the bed, Prowl I think he introduced himself as (my memory has been trying to reboot itself lately, so it's a bit unreliable) snatches the pictures off the bed and places them neatly back into the manilla folder he was holding under his arm. He purses his lips slightly as he looks over at his partner, tapping his finger on the folder lightly. Then he looks back at me and nods. "Very well then, Ms. Clancy. We are trying to do our job, to find the person or persons responsible, but you are the best source of this information. Any little bit would help. If you say this was not the place, we believe you. But it is our only lead at this time as it is where we found you. I understand you are trying, as are we. It is not our intention to upset you."

"How'd you even find me there anyway and not get the people who did this?" I fold my arms with only a minor wince as my collar bone twinges, and I'm slightly mollified by his apology, as my glare turns into a frown and my frustration goes from a boil into a simmer.

"Someone called about the screaming," his partner spoke up, swinging his leg down to sit properly, clasping his hands between his knees. "You had quite a set of lungs to be heard from two houses away. Though, at this juncture, I am wondering if they placed you there. Do you remember anything at all, since you are so insistent that the house is not where you were held?"

I rub my forehead and pinch the bridge of my nose as I once again, try and remember anything. I've gotten a big fat nothing so far, I have no reason to believe now will be any different. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember anything, but my brain is still fuzzy, I'm still trying to remember the past year, so focusing on a few specific days is like spinning the wheel of fortune and hoping you land on the jackpot. Everything is all mushed together and blended and I rub at my eye with the heel of my hand, groaning in frustration again. "I dunno...I...it was dark...maybe? There were-" I sigh, getting nothing from my memories. "There was a whole big fat load of nothing. Bars, a cage. I dunno." I catch Prowl's partner looking over at him as I pull my hand away like I said something significant. Looking between the two of them though, nothing else comes of it. Though I'm sure they've made a note of my half-crazed rambling. The more I think on it though, it sounds right. I just wish I could remember.

"Thank you, Ms. Clancy. I know this isn't easy for you, so I think we should call it a day for now. We've taxed you enough. I'm sure your brother would want us to let you heal." Prowl heads for the door as Riley stands up, (ah yes, that was his name) and they both give me a small wave goodbye, leaving my mind swirling with kicked up memories.

There is one cop I don't mind seeing though. For the first few days, I have no idea who he was. But he comes in every day anyway to check on me. Usually trailing after my brother. He also comes in bearing the nectar of the gods, coffee, for me, and it quickly endears me to him. After the second day of him bringing me coffee, I ask Troi, after he had left, if he was my boyfriend. I've never seen Troi laugh so hard. He refuses to tell me his name and I'm going to assume he's sworn his friend to silence as well because he hasn't introduced himself.

"Well...then is he gay? What the hell, Troi!" I glared at him.

"No...no no...hahaha, he would bring you on set since you busted your collarbone. I'm sure he saw you order your crack in a cup enough times that he had it memorized or whatever. He just...pays attention. He was a cop back in Boston." Troi was grinning at me the rest of the day.

Two days later, Troi leaves him alone with me as he took a phone call from dad. I want to sit up more, but I only have the one semi workable arm. After a few seconds of struggling, I look over at him, frustrated.

"Daniel can you help me? I want to sit up more." He slowly looks over at me, eyes wide. He put down his coffee carefully, eyes still on me like I was some apparition that would disappear if he looked away.

"Ophelia, you...remember my name?" He gets up and walks over, a slightly hopeful look on his face. I thought about it for a moment and realized I did. Daniel. Daniel Harper. He works with Bob on the highway patrol. Which is where he should be right about now, not coming in every day bringing me coffee.

"Harper just get over here and fix my pillow so I can sit up." I shout at him, exasperated. He lets out a small "aha!" and quickly comes over, grinning madly. He fixes my pillow then hugs me in his exuberance. That's when Troi comes back in.

"Ok. Ok. Break it up." I'm looking at Troi a bit confused over Harper's shoulder, one arm hugging him awkwardly when I hiss, wincing and trying to pull back. He backs off immediately, looking at me worriedly as I glance at my shoulder.

"Oh snap, sorry Ophelia. Sorry."

"It's fine Daniel, it's fine. And how many times must I ask you to call me Lia?"

"At least once more, Ms Clancy." He grins at me. I smack him in the arm with my cast covered hand and he rubs at the sore spot mockingly.

"Yeah yeah, you and your rules about names and such. You, who has been bringing me coffee the past week, I'd feel safe in saying we're not acquaintances any longer." I look at him pointedly. Meanwhile my brother is watching this whole exchange with a giant cat-found-the-cream look on his face, not saying a word. "And why are you here? Why are you not at work?"

"Um well...Lia," he says, trying out my preferred name. I will admit, it does sound nice to hear it come from his mouth. "The guys back home like a man on the inside. Bob wants updates, so I come here and see you then confer with my cousin on your case and give them what info I can." Troi cuffs him on the shoulder and frowns. "And I had some vacation days saved up." He grounds out, glaring at Troi. My brother just covers his face with his hand and sighs.

"Oi..Dan, time to go. We're needed on set."

"But I don't start-"

"We're. Needed. On. Set." Harper grinds his teeth and sighs, shaking his head at Troi. I look at both of them and quirk an eyebrow, suspicious as to what they're up to. Troi just smiles at me smugly and wraps an arm around Harper, practically dragging him out of the room. Troi hasn't asked me about my accident and what happened with Jace since the day I woke up, but I know he's just waiting. Not very patiently, but he's waiting. I think I have Harper to thank for that. I think I will do that when he comes back tomorrow with my coffee.

I watch them go and then drink my coffee in silence, playing the DS Jodi let me borrow. It's a bit awkward at first to hold with both hands thanks to my arm in a sling, but I get it down. Normally I'd risk taking my arm out at this juncture but a) there are nurses here to yell at me, and b) I've got newly placed pins in my collar bone. I really, really, really don't want to move it too much just yet. Even with the good drugs they keep giving me. So I play Chrono Trigger for a bit, actually getting into it. I don't usually invest in RPGs because I don't have the time, but sitting here, that's all I have.


End file.
